


Desire

by 0KKULTiC



Series: We Would Be Savage [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alien Character(s), Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Aquatic Planet, Drowning, Fights, Fist Fights, Hybrids, ImprisonedPoliceOfficer!Seonghwa, Insults, Interplanetary Travel, LOTS of innuendo bc im 12 years old, M/M, MORE Enemies to Lovers, Merpeople, More slow burn, New Planets, Outer Space, PilotPuppy!Yunho, Sci-Fi, Science Fiction, Seduction, Sirens, Space Combat, Space Ship Chases, SpaceCaptain!Hongjoong, SpaceRogue!Wooyoung, TokenSanePerson!Jongho, Warning: Hwa is still sort of a twat!!, Water, Waterboarding, [It's Always Sunny theme] The Gang Gets Waterboarded, he will come around i promise, lots of insults, space western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-09 22:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18647692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0KKULTiC/pseuds/0KKULTiC
Summary: The crew of the stolen KQ F3LL4Z combat freighter think they're in the clear. It's only been a couple of nights, but they're already happily transitioning into life on their new ship (with their new prisoner). Unfortunately, the fugitives are found. They take asylum on a strange, uncharted planet, ecstatic that they've shaken the Coalition yet again.But things can never quite work out neatly for Captain Hongjoong, can they?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> // This work is unbeta'd and will contain increased spelling and grammar errors.

Starlight trickles in through the slats of the blinds in Hongjoong’s new bedroom. With a soft “shink” noise, they slide up, beaming the full brunt of the starscape’s light into the captain’s quarters. Hongjoong winces as his new alarm system wakes him. He paws clumsily at the bedside table, swatting at the projected display.

 

A soft, robotic voice kindly informs him: “It is six-hundred hours, captain.” 

 

“Mn… No. Why?” Hongjoong groans, turning over and tangling in his sheets. He hadn’t quite figured out how to adjust his alarm settings. It’s set to military time, aka: waking him up at disgustingly early hours.

 

There’s a lot of stuff Hongjoong has still yet to really grasp on their new vessel. The place isn’t exactly massive - probably meant to fit about a dozen crew if that. There’s ten rooms for crew (plus the captain’s quarters), a kitchen with a dining room, a sort of common area with a desk, the infirmary and the jail, the cargo hold, an engine room, a safe room, the bridge and - of course - the conveniently placed jail. The layout’s pretty simple. The technical stuff is on the bottom level: jail, infirmary, laundry, cargo hold and engine access. The middle level has the living spaces: bedrooms, bathrooms, living area, kitchen, and the top level is pretty much exclusively the bridge along with some storage closets.

 

The crew had graciously accepted Joong’s impassioned “dibs” and given him the nice, relatively spacious Captain’s quarters. Unlike the other rooms, it seems like some semblance of personality. Instead of sterile, metallic tones and textures, it’s got warmth. There’s an actual fireplace across from the queen-sized bed (which has an actual, real wooden bedframe). The captain, apparently, gets the privilege to wake up and step onto a warm, plush area rug instead of cold metal. Sure, the luxury is minimal, but it’s there. In truth, it’s probably nicer than anywhere else Hongjoong has ever slept. He almost regrets taking the room for himself. It feels so big and empty - it’s probably almost as big as the apartment he and Yunho grew up in.

 

However, falling back onto his personal heap of pillows makes those regrets melt away. He rolls around giddily, giggles getting muffled by his fluffy duvet (he didn’t even  _ know  _ the word duvet until Jongho told him what it was). Hongjoong isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to it. Not when he’d spent his entire life on roll out mats and twin bunks. After a few more minutes of nesting in his heap of softness, he sits up in defeat.

 

He’s not going back to sleep. 

 

Defeated, he makes his way over to the wall-spanning wardrobe. (Seriously, what blackcoat needs a big wardrobe? They have  _ one  _ outfit.) He goes through the motions: stretches a bit, gets dressed (and makes a mental note to somehow get more clothes later), brushes his teeth. 

 

“Hey, Joong,” A crackly voice crops up from a small speaker. Hongjoong’s attention is turned to a tiny screen projecting from next to his mirror. The screen displays a sound wave, along with the caller: “Call From KITCHEN”. It sounds like Yunho can’t sleep, either. If Hongjoong had to guess, nobody can. They’re still a bit wired from their insane escape from KQ.

 

“What’s up?” Hongjoong answers, his voice animating the displayed wave.

 

“You up?” Yunho asks (from the kitchen, apparently).

 

“No, Yunho. I’m not up. You’ve just been answered by a voicemail. Please leave your answer after the-”

 

“Ha, ha. Very funny. Okay- Well I was gonna ask what you wanna eat for breakfast?”

 

Ah, breakfast, Hongjoong thinks. A foreign concept to him. He’d usually drink some fortified liquid meal to get by for the beginning of the day. That was before he had six months of GC freeze-dehydrated rations at his disposal. Of course, with the rate they’re all eating them, it might not last half that time.

 

“Are the others out of bed yet?”

 

“Wooyoung’s somewhere- I saw him going to the bathroom earlier. I dunno about Jongho.”

 

“Eh. Dude, I dunno. What do people even eat for breakfast?”

 

“Soup? A croissant?”

 

“A what?”

 

“A croissant- Oh, I learned it earlier, Jongho was telling me about ‘em. It’s a bread.”

 

“Huh. Sounds fancy. Is it a fancy bread?”

 

“I guess it’s crescent shaped,” Yunho shrugs (or at least, Hongjoong pictures it). 

 

“Right, well, dude you use your judgment. I’ll be there in a sec, okay? Oh- And don’t eat it all before I get there.”

 

“I will definitely do one of those things!” Yunho chirps before hanging up with a click.

 

Hongjoong rolls his eyes. In spite of Yunho’s silliness, Joong smiles. Food? A decent place to sleep? The thought of those simple things makes his heart glow with contentment. Not eager to see his food go missing, Hongjoong finishes sorting himself in front of the mirror and goes to join his new crew.

 

* * *

 

The sound of chopsticks and spoons clinking against dishes fills the little dining area. Jongho had emerged not long after Hongjoong’s arrival to the kitchen, and Wooyoung sat next to Yunho. The four eat in relative peace, enjoying their spread of soup, rice and fish. It’s savory and salty and oh, so satisfying. Joong doesn’t know if he’s ever started a regular day so full. 

 

“Just once,” Wooyoung chuckles, pointing his chopsticks at Yunho.

 

“No,” Yunho protests.

 

“C’mon man, just lemme touch your tail once.”

 

“Haven’t we gone over this? That’s weird.”

 

“It’s only weird because you make it weird. I bet he’s touched your tail. Have you touched his tail?” Wooyoung turns to Joong.

 

“Wh- Hey, don’t bring Hongjoong into this- Joong, you don’t have to answer that.”

 

Hongjoong laughs with a shrug, “I mean, Yunho and I grew up together. What do you think?”

 

Wooyoung gasps, “See? See? This is so unfair!”

 

“Fine!” Yunho throws his hands up, “You touch my tail, I’ll grab your ass, how does that sound?” He asks facetiously.

 

“Go ahead bro, cop a feel,” Wooyoung shrugs. He even gets up from his chair and bends over, “C’mon, it’s nice and tight.”

 

“Y’know,” Jongho groans, “Some of us are trying to eat.”

 

“Wooyoung, put your ass away and stop sexually harassing the pilot,” Hongjoong says, “That’s an order from your captain.”

 

Wooyoung pouts but complies, huffily sitting back down in his chair, “No fun allowed…” He grumbles before filling his mouth with rice.

 

“Oh, another thing, Wooyoung. Do you how to adjust the alarm system- like, personal alarms not actual emergency ones.”

 

“For what?”

 

“Like for my bedroom? So I stop getting woken up at the asscrack of simulated dawn.”

 

Wooyoung shakes his head, “Oh, I dunno. Just mess around with the settings, you’ll probably find it eventually.”

 

“What? But you know, like, everything!”

 

The other laughs at that, “Wh- No I don’t. I mean- I’ll happily take the compliment.”

 

“Dude you hacked your way into this damn thing- not to mention the security feeds and lifting all the… Whatever stuff off of the ship.”

 

“Yeah,” Yunho agrees, “The security in the jail, knowing there’d be a map and a hangar, the ship… How do you know all of this stuff but not how to set alarms?”

 

Wooyoung sighs and puts down his chopsticks as if in defeat, “Listen, I’m familiar with a lot of blackcoat tech because I… I used to be one.”

 

“What?!” “What?” You-  _ what _ ?”

 

“I mean- sort of. Relax,” Wooyoung holds up a hand. “I wanted to be a soldier for the longest time. Took the fast track in primary school so I could get placed in the accelerated program at the academy. Tested into special ops, too.”

 

Hongjoong looks at the other dubiously, “And yet… Here you are.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Wooyoung shrugs, “I wanted to join the GC because I thought that meant I could protect the good people of this universe. Learned the hard way that the only thing the blackcoats are interested in protecting is the status quo.” He frowns.

 

“Oh, I’m- I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be. It is what it is. I’d rather be here than deluding myself like Petty Officer Park down in the brig.”

 

“Oh- Speaking of our esteemed guess,” Jongho’s face lights up with realization of sorts. It takes Hongjoong and the others a second to understand what he’s getting at. They all mumble a collective “oh, yeah” when they do.

 

“Lemme pull up the security feeds,” Wooyoung says. He strolls over to the little kitchen. On the wall next to the counter is a little computer console. Hongjoong’s not sure what a GC officer would need to look up from the kitchen, but he appreciates the value of convenience if nothing else. 

 

After a few keystrokes, a projected holoscreen floats above the table, on it a security feed with four angles of one cell. There’s not much to see, considering the only resident is one Petty Officer Park Seonghwa.

 

Hongjoong’s face scrunches with confusion as he watches the petty officer do… Something.

 

“What the hell is he doing?” Yunho asks the question before he can.

 

“I dunno,” Wooyoung shrugs.

 

“Looks like yoga,” Jongho says. 

 

“Like what?” Yunho asks.

 

“Y’know. Yoga.”

 

“That… What the hell is ‘yoga’?”

 

“What do you mean ‘what the hell is yoga’? It’s yoga.”

 

“No, I don’t know what it is, either,” Hongjoong comments.

 

Jongho looks at the two in disbelief,“Y’know. Discipline of meditation with, like, poses and breath control and-”

 

“Nope.” “Never heard of it. Sounds fake.”

 

The youngest rolls his eyes and shrugs, “Well, it’s used to condition the body. To stay focused and stay in shape.”

 

“How cute, he’s watching his figure,” Wooyoung adds dryly. “Alright, whose turn is it this morning?”

 

The four put their hands in the middle and start a round of rock, paper, scissors.

  
They’d been on course for two nights. On their first night, after the insanity of the chase had settled down, they sat around the table for some serious discussion. They talked about their wants, needs, and goals. A few ground rules were established, and part of that conversation had been their prisoner, Park Seonghwa. They ultimately decided that they didn’t want to kill him (no matter how much of a prick he is). Hongjoong set a guideline: stay away unless necessary. It’s not exactly a hard set rule, but he doesn’t want Petty Officer Prettyboy creeping into anyone’s head with manipulation or riling them up. Of course, part of their decision to not kill him includes feeding him. Two meals a day, they decided, breakfast and dinner.

 

That means someone has to take it to him, unfortunately.

 

“Oooh, captain’s it!” “Ha!” “I’m out.” The other three snicker as their round of roshambo comes to a conclusion. Hongjoong scrunches his nose but accepts the duty with grace.

 

“Alright, alright. Settle down. It’s not that funny,” Joong rolls his eyes as he makes a tray for the prisoner.

 

“Should I watch in case you punch him in the face again?” Wooyoung jokes.

 

“Shut up,” Hongjoong scoffs. “Okay, when I’m done delivering this, this better be cleaned up-” He nods to the kitchen table, covered in dishes, “-and Yunho meet me on the bridge. I think we’re about half a day from our next stop.”

 

“Okay.” “Yes, sir.” “Have fun!” The other three answer.

 

Hongjoong heaves a sigh as he exits the kitchen, their banter echoing behind him. He does his best to keep the tray level as he descends the steps to the cargo bay and rounds the corner toward the brig. The door slides open with a soft noise as he enters.

 

“Don’t stop on my account,” Joong says as he approaches the cell. Seonghwa seems to have been in mid-lunge before the other had walked in. He doesn’t give Hongjoong a response - at least not a verbal one. The captain figures the rolled eyes and crossed arms is basically like a “good morning” from the officer.

 

Hongjoong ignores the other’s pouting and sets the tray onto the ledge of the door. The slot automatically slides open upon detecting the weight, and it pulls the tray through onto the ledge inside before shutting. 

 

“Eat up,” Hongjoong tells the prisoner, tone dripping with sarcasm. Seonghwa takes the tray wearily, and Hongjoong pops a squat right on the floor, sitting cross-legged.

 

Seonghwa grimaces at him, “What are you doing?”

 

“Watching you eat,” Hongjoong says. It’s true, he could do it via security feed or even just keep a post by the door to the brig - but that wouldn’t piss Seonghwa off much. And, honestly, Hongjoong feels like it’d be so much more fun to do exactly that.

 

“Why?” The officer asks dubiously.

 

“Well, for one, I wanna make sure you’re not gonna try to starve yourself to death out of protest-”

 

“Ugh,” The platinum blond scoffs, a look of disgust painted plainly on his features.

 

“-and  _ two _ , I don’t want you making a shiv out of our dishes.” Hongjoong flashes Seonghwa a saccharine grin just to annoy him a tiny bit more.

 

“What if your presence inhibits my appetite,” Seonghwa says.

 

“Then I’d suggest you eat quickly. I’m only here as long as it takes for you to eat that.”

 

“You know, the other one didn’t stare me down like a creep. I liked him.”

 

“So sorry, your majesty, looks like I’m your humble servant this morning.”

 

“Laugh it up now,” Seonghwa says between bites of rice and fish. “Enjoy yourself while you can.”

 

“Can and will be for a long time, thank you very much,” Hongjoong replies smugly.

 

Seonghwa lets out a laugh at that, and it unsettles Hongjoong. The last time the guy laughed at him, things sort of escalated. The captain narrows his eyes at the other. It’s sort of a strange, unfamiliar sensation to want to beat someone up so badly. Hongjoong has always been a pretty peaceful guy. Sure, he doesn’t mind roughing people up, but he’d never maliciously harm an innocent person. Defintely not end their life.

 

Except for Park Seonghwa.

 

Something about his pristine perfection makes Hongjoong’s skin crawl with discomfort. Petty Officer Prettyboy is so thoroughly perfect, it’s actually infuriating. He reminds Hongjoong of every beautiful, manicured, rich snob who’d ever turned their nose up at him, his family, or his profession before. He’s the absolute embodiment of the GC’s unrealistic standard of ideal beauty. The petty officer is an illustrative example of the ideal Galactic Coalition citizen - so, basically the complete opposite of Hongjoong. It’s the kind of untainted impeccability that almost screams “corrupt me!”. He just wants to see a hair out of place. He wants to watch him lose his irritatingly unshakeable calm. The urge is odd and foreign and almost scary to Hongjoong, so he tries not to think about it while he watches the other eat (taking delicate bites and holding his utensils daintily, of course).

 

“What time is it?” Seonghwa asks.

 

Hongjoong glares at the other, “Why does it matter. Have a hot date?”

 

“I heard some alarms not long ago, and you’ve given me breakfast, so I’m guessing it’s after seven. Am I wrong?”

 

“You’re a lot of things, but in this case wrong isn’t one of them,” Joong shrugs.

 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes. He finishes his meal with quiet haste and slides the tray through the door’s slot. Hongjoong does a quick inventory to make extra sure that nothing had gone missing. After counting a set of chopsticks, a plate, a bowl and a spoon, he grabs the tray and starts leaving.

 

“Next meal will be in like… Ten hours or something,” Joong says when he’s at the doorway.

 

“I’ll see you soon,” Seonghwa replies.

 

Hongjoong pauses for a second. What makes him think Joong’ll lose roshambo  _ twice _ ? It’s not like he exactly wants to see the guy either. He’s cool living without extremely awkward, forced conversations with a blackcoat prettyboy prick. 

 

“I hope you don’t,” Is what Hongjoong says in parting before the door slides shut behind him. “Ugh,” He actually physically, audibly recoils. Just seeing the guy puts him in a bad mood. He hopes they find some remote (but not completely inhospitable) planet to dump him on soon. They figured after getting their bearings a bit, they’d just throw him somewhere with civilization and bolt. They’d all thrown out ideas as to how he’d get thrown. Yunho liked the idea of physically tossing him from the ship before running. Jongho graciously proposed we at least leave him with “like a gun, or some food”. Wooyoung just callously insisted that they hand him a gun with a single shot left and leave him somewhere uninhabited. Joong figured they could hammer out the gory details later. Though, after having the pleasure of dining with Officer Park, he’s starting to hope “later” comes sooner.

 

“Captain?” The intercom fizzles to life as Joong walks up the steps of the cargo hold. It’s Yunho’s voice.

 

Hongjoong’s eyes go wide, “Uh, yeah?”

 

“I think they found us.”

 

“You think they what-” _“Boom!”_ Suddenly, Hongjoong’s body lurches with the movement of the ship. The tray flies, clattering down the steps loudly as it falls. 

 

“There’s, like, a dozen of them or something,” Yunho says over the intercom.

 

“Just- Just evade for now!” Joong answers. The ship jostles again, and the captain has to cling to the nearest railing to not go over it himself. “Is Wooyoung there? What happened- I mean, I’m not mad at him, but-”

 

Wooyoung’s voice pops up on the intercom, “My work was _perfect_ , thanks much. The ship is still a ghost, but…” The click-clack of fingers across a keyboard sounds out across the ship for a few seconds, “It looks like there’s something external doing this. I- I can’t believe it, but it’s like a beacon. A distress signal. Coming from the ship.”

 

“You think we touched anything weird?”

 

“No, sir. Any sort of distress signal would have to be made by one of us at a computer.”

 

Joong combs his thoughts, replaying everything he’d done (or touched) on the ship in the past couple of days. Nothing sticks out as unordinary. Think, he urges himself, think. How the hell would there be a distress beacon coming from inside the ship? It’s definitely not something they’d do on purpose. What kind of a jackass would invite an entire GC fleet to come whoop their asses?

 

“I’ll see you soon,” Hongjoong mutters to himself.

 

“What was that, captain?”

 

“I- I’ll be up soon! I’ve got a hunch that I know exactly  who’s responsible for this,” He growls, bounding down the steps so he can confront their pesky prisoner. 

 

He storms into the brig, pure anger along with worry bubbling up in his chest.

 

“Well that was quick,” Seonghwa says nonchalantly. Smugly. “It’s about time they came. I sent the signal almost two nights ago- oof!” 

 

Hongjoong cuts the other off, reaching into the cell and grabbing the prisoner by the collar. Seonghwa’s body collides with the bars of the cell, and the noise bounces loudly across the metal walls of the jail.

 

“What the _hell_ did you do?” Hongjoong questions. “How- how the fuck did you send a signal?!”

 

Seonghwa has the gall to laugh, and he lifts up a wrist, “I’m chipped, idiot.”

 

Joong lets the prisoner go with a huff, glancing at the other’s wrist in disbelief. He hadn’t noticed it before, but now a tiny little square inside his right wrist glows - probably in response to the rescue team or something.

 

_ Shit. _

 

The prisoner doesn’t hesitate to continue gloating, “Of course if you bothered educating yourself- or, really, using your powers of observation, you would know that.”

 

A vivid rainbow of curse words reels through Hongjoong’s head as he tries to think of a solution. In the meanwhile, the ship constantly shifts and joggles, signalling that whoever’s after them is in hot pursuit. Impulsively, Joong punches in the security code to the cell.

 

Seonghwa opens his mouth to let out some other quip, but Joong’s rough shove knocks the wind out of him. The captain grabs a fistful of the officer’s flawless platinum blond hair and drags him out of the jail.

 

“Wh- Ow- ow- ow- what the hell?!” Seongwha gasps as he stumbles alongside the indignant Hongjoong. All the while the ship groans and flinches, no doubt due to their pursuit. The pursuit brought on by the god forsaken officer.

 

Hongjoong can’t really think. He can hardly even see - there’s so much hot, red anger clouding his vision. It boils his insides and practically bursts out through his skin. He ignores the other’s whines of protest as his feet carry him toward his destination.

 

“What the- what the- where the hell are you taking me?!” Seonghwa begs the question.

 

When Joong gets there, the door slides open automatically, and he throws the other in. Seonghwa crashes into the examination table and knocks over supplies as he’s whipped into the infirmary. Hongjoong doesn’t dignify the other with any answers as he frantically searches for what he needs.

 

The prisoner looks around with a baffled grimace, “Is this the- the infirmary?”

 

“That chip of yours is gonna be a problem,” Honjoong says. He throws open drawers in a frenzy, spilling gauze and medicine everywhere in his search.

 

“Don’t you ever cut your losses?” Seonghwa groans, slowly pulling himself onto his feet. “They’ll probably be boarding in ten minutes. Just let it go, and take the punishment you deserve.”

 

Hongjoong heaves a sigh of relief when the instrument he’d been looking for catches the light: a scalpel. 

 

The captain carefully withdraws the sharp tool, “First of all, I don’t plan on getting boarded or caught- or imprisoned or killed. So, I do need to find a solution to take care of your little remote bitch button. Secondly-” he brandishes the scalpel authoritatively. “-I’m gonna suggest you don’t move around too much. I’m not exactly what you’d call a professional.”

 

Seonghwa’s face scrunches as he struggles to comprehend the captain’s words. He glances at the scalpel, and the light flickers on. His crystal blue eyes blow wide open, and his mouth falls agape. 

 

He stutters,“You- you  _ wouldn’t dare _ -”

 

Hongjoong ignores the rest of his blubbering and lunges toward him. More medical supplies come crashing to the ground as he tackles the prisoner down. The officer tries to wiggle away, but Joong has him pinned under his own body. A struggle ensues between the two as Joong tries to get a secure grip on the other’s glowing wrist.

 

“I told you,” Joong speaks through gritted teeth, “Just stay still.”

 

“Like hell I will,” Seonghwa responds, his voice just as strained and angry, “You’re seriously a moron to think you’re gonna come out on top against me!” With that, he grunts with effort and throws Hongjoong off of him. Hongjoong slides against the ground until his body hits the examination table with a soft thud. Pain ripples down his spine from the contact, and he winces.

 

The officer hoists himself back up using the nearby counter for support, and in spite of everything, he lets out a wry laugh.

 

“I told you: cut your losses. You’re not gonna wi-” 

 

_ “Clang!” _ Hongjoong threw the closest thing he could find which turned out to be a mini defibrillator that’d fallen over. The box hits Seongwha with a noise probably more threatening than the actual force of it. Still, it’s enough of an opening for Joong to get up and tackle the guy again.

 

He does just that, and the two tangle once again.

 

* * *

_ “Boom!” “Pew-pew!” _

 

“Shields at sixty-eight percent,” The bridge’s computer informs the three present.

 

Yunho frowns, veering right to avoid another onslaught of missiles. There’s no buildings to hide behind or towers to weave through in open space, leaving them with few options. (Read: none.)

 

“Where the hell is Hongjoong?” Wooyoung asks from near the navigation console. The Compass’s projection happens to be in a rare, stable state, and he searches desperately for the appearance of any place they could shake the blackcoats.

 

“Uh, I’ll try to call him on the intercom,” Jongho volunteers. He’d been pacing since the first warning signs had popped up on their radar, and he decides taking a seat next to Yunho may be the best thing to calm him down a bit. Jongho taps a few keys on the console to phone the captain, “Oh- Looks like he’s in the… Infirmary? H-hey Hongjoong? Captain? What are you-”

 

“Aaah!”  _ “Clang!” “Clang- Bang!” “Thud!” _ “Ugh-!”  _ “ _ Hhg- _ ” _ A series of loud, angry noises and shouts blares through the speakers, almost making Jongho jump out of his seat. An abrupt evasive steering maneuver by Yunho makes him _actually_ jump out of his seat seconds later.

 

“Hong...Joong?” Jongho asks concernedly.

 

_“_ Y-yeah- _aah!”_ _“Thud!”_ The eldest sounds pained.

 

The youngest fires back with questions worriedly,“What the hell are you doing?! What’s going on down there? Did you find the source of the signal?”

 

“Yeah, I- It’s the- his wrist chip pinged them- ugh!” _“Claang!!”_ More sounds of struggle follow - things crashing to the floor and grunts of exertion. Jongho tries to piece together the fragments he’d been given. Wrist chip? Ping? His?

  
Realization dawns on his face, “Wait- The officer is chipped?”

 

“ _ Shit _ ,” Wooyoung curses from behind him. 

 

“Shields fifty percent.”

 

“Dammit! It took a whole day for them to regenerate,” Yunho pouts.

 

Hongjoong’s staticy voice plays into the bridge’s speakers, “Y-Yeah. Don’t worry, though I’ve- I’ve-”  _ “Thud-thud!!” “Bang!” _ “I’ve got it handle- ahhh!”  _ “Thud.” _

 

Another voice picks up where the other's leaves off, its tone soft and cool, “Your captain is currently unable to come to the phone right now. I’m sure you’ve all noticed how fruitless your efforts are at this point. If you’re religious, I’d recommend you start praying.”

 

“That’s not good,” Jongho mutters to himself. He speaks into the the intercom, “Joong I’m on my way, just- don’t die.”

 

The captain’s weak voice trickles out from the speaker,“Don’t worry I’ve got thi- oof!” _“Thwak!”_

 

“Click.”

 

“Shields thirty-five percent.”

 

“I’m going down there to help him,” Jongho announces, bursting up from his seat.

 

_“Boom!”_ A laser to the side shoves the ship to the side, almost sending Jongho across the bridge.

 

“Shields twenty-nine percent.”

 

“Whoa- Be careful, man! You can’t just be walking around right now,” Yunho barks at the other.

 

“B-but Hongjoong-”

 

“Listen,” Wooyoung reasons with the younger one, “If we do get boarded, you’re, like, our last line of defense. We can’t afford you falling down the stairs or something.”

 

“Shields sub twenty-five percent.”

 

“He’s right,” Yunho speaks to Jongho though his eyes remain fixed out on the bridge. Slim combat cruisers approach him in a vic formation. He yanks the steering wheel down, just narrowly missing a full-on collision. 

 

_ “Pew-pew!” “Bang-! Bang!” _

 

“Shields critical. Shields minimum reached, shutting down...”

 

“Is it- is it turning our shields off?” Jongho cries.

 

_ “Bang!!” _

 

Whatever hits them hits them good, and if they’d thought they felt the blows before, they were wrong. The other hits they’d taken were _nothing_ compared to a ballistic laser missile hitting the actual hull of the ship. Jongho’s body is tossed across the bridge’s floor, and Wooyoung just barely stays upright by holding the nav console. Yunho, still the picture of complete focus, puts as much power into the acceleration thrusters as he can.

 

“We’re gonna get boarded, aren’t we?” Jongho wails in agony, his face contorted with pain.

 

“Superficial damage to the front-larboard thruster armor,” The ship’s robotic voice announces.

 

Suddenly, the Compass’s map projection changes. It flickers and stutters, blinking erratically. Wooyoung’s eyes widen, and he smacks it a couple of times until the picture stablizes. This time, however, the starmap looks different. Not far ahead of them, something new appears on the map. The beacon blinks as if beckoning the ship to come.

 

“Wait- wait!” Wooyoung shouts, his voice shrill with excitement, “I think- I think we’ve got something! Yunho, look at that star over there! That- that big, blue one.”

 

“Wh- huh?” Yunho’s concentration breaks, and the ship jerks for a second. He follows Wooyoung’s instruction, looking off into the distance. “Oh, yeah, uh- It’s coming up fast. Is it even safe to be near that thing? It looks giant-”

 

“It’s not a star, it’s actually a planet,” Wooyoung (holding onto anything he can reach to stay upright) paces over to the other pilot’s seat. He punches the coordinates into the PC to bring it up in the database. His shoulders sag with relief, “It’s… Uncharted? It’s got a name. Obor...Reru? Not very catchy… That’s weird. There’s like nothing in GC’s database- but- but according to this it the atmosphere breathable. There’s some… Vague descriptions about the terrain. Foresty. Trees. Lots of water- could be a place we can shake them.”

 

“You don’t have to tell me twice. Let’s set our course-”

 

_“Bam!!”_

 

“Superficial damage sustained to starboard rear thrusters. Moderate damage sustained to starboard hull.”

 

“ _ -fast _ ,” Yunho finishes the thought. He steers the ship forward, gritting his teeth as they take hits big and small. Jongho barely manages to find something to anchor onto, and Wooyoung’s grip on the console in front of him leaves his knuckles white.

 

With their forward velocity, the planet comes racing into view, and soon they can see the surface. The atmosphere is much like any Earth’s - translucent with a blue glow. Actually, Yunho realizes, it’s more blue than any earth he’d ever seen. There’s not a speck of pollution apparent in the ozone, and almost the entire surface seems to be, well, blue - primarily covered in water, it seems.

 

“Warning! Larboard landing stabilizer one damaged! Landing stabilizer one damaged!”

 

“Sorry ship,” Yunho mutters an apology, “We’re going in.” He opens the planetary entrance HUD on the projected screen and starts punching in commands. Entering an atmosphere isn’t always the smoothest, but with damaged stabilizers and thrusters, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

  
  


* * *

_ “Thud!” “Craash!!” _

 

“No, but seriously, you’re a  _ terrible  _ fighter,” Seonghwa mocks Hongjoong from across the infirmary. The two huff and puff, both exhausted from grappling but too stubborn to throw in the towel.

 

“Sorry,” Hongjoong responds dryly as he gets up for the umpteenth time, “I guess I don’t get practice picking on people like you guys do.”

 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, but the condescending gesture is stunted when Joong rushes toward him again. The two crash down onto the ground and roll around on top of spilled medical supplies and instruments. 

 

“Hey, captain, you still good?” Yunho’s voice suddenly bellows from the intercom.

 

“Splendid!” Joong calls back with gritted teeth. He winds up a punch for Seongwha, but the officer catches his fist. 

 

“Okay, good, because we’re gonna like, land on a planet now. Also our landing stuff is damaged so, uh… Hold on?”

 

As if on cue, everything in the infirmary shakes violently. It’s like an earthquake, and anything unsecured that hadn’t been knocked over already rains down onto the ground. 

 

“What?” Seonghwa blurts out in surprise. “Where the hell are we- I- Are you morons? You’re cornering yourself.” He grabs Joong’s wrists in an attempt to throw him off, but the captain isn’t shaken.

 

Hongjoong knees the other square in the gut, making him scream out in pain. They’re back to square one as he straddles the other, making a move to seize his wrist. The inner workings of the ship wails and groans as it enters the atmosphere. Finally, Hongjoong manages to close his hand around Seonghwa’s wrist, and he carefully lowers his scalpel to the delicate skin.

 

“No- no!” The prisoner yells. He writhes violently, and along with the shaking of the ship, it’s enough to send Joong for a loop. His hand slips a bit, and in seconds scarlet is running down Seonghwa’s wrist. “Ahh! Y-You stabbed me! You actually stabbed me- ahh!” The officer hollers.

 

It was a _graze_ \- enough to draw blood, but by no means a stab. Honestly, Joong had seen worse accidents from shaving. He would make fun of the other if he could, but it’s not exactly a good time. He’s thrown off of the other (again), and he’s left scrambling back as Seonghwa grabs the nearest sharp object. Of course, he reaches for the bone saw. Why  _ wouldn’t _ he reach for the bone saw?

 

His azure eyes are wide with mania as he looms over the other. Luckily, the ship violently joggles again, making the platinum blond teeter and stumble onto the ground. A cocksided grin spans those rosy lips of his, and he snarks as he brandishes the saw:  


 

"Mine's bigger."

 

“Entering atmosphere of Obureru,” The ship’s calm, robotic tone announces, contrasting deeply with the chaos ensuing within. “Due to superficial to moderate damages to the hull, it is recommended that all passengers be seated and cargo secured.”

 

Seonghwa stops abruptly, his arm dropping as he blinks in confusion,“W-wait, what did the ship just say?”

 

Hongjoong doesn’t care to answer. Instead, he scans the immediate area for anything he can use to his advantage. The officer’s got a bone saw and combat training, and Joong’s not confident he can keep up with him much longer. Anything not in a shut drawer or closed cabinet had spilled out onto the floor. The ship’s bumpiness had mixed everything together, making the floor a minefield of bottles, needles and bandages.

 

Suddenly, it clicks.

 

Medicine. _Needles_.

 

Joong searches frantically looking for syringe or injector with something useful. He has absolutely no idea what a GC ship’s gonna stock, but he prays there’s _something_ he can use.

 

“No,” Seonghwa utters in the meanwhile, completely distracted. “No, no, no- No you have to tell him to turn back!”

 

Hongjoong’s hand lands on an auto-injector, and he gets a spark of excitement - but it turns out to just be a painkiller. He rushedly sifts through bottles and injectors and even spray-serums. There’s anti-inflammatories, antibiotics, and even fever reducers. Still, nothing that’ll help.

 

“Hey, captain,” Yunho’s voice plays on the intercom, “Real quick- if you can hear this and you’re not, like, passed out or something, hold on. We lost the blackcoats, they’re just… Leaving us here. They're actually turning back.”

 

So the tables have turned?

 

Hongjoong smiles at that. Even more exciting, he finds something useful. Wrapped handsomely in a red package like a present, there it is. Beneath some technical jargon, the letters spell out words Hongjoong can understand: auto-injecting tranquilizer. He quickly unboxes the thing and hides the pen-looking injector behind his back.

 

“No, no you need to turn back!” Seonghwa says, panic setting into his voice. He still looks manic, but bloodlust has been replaced with worry.

 

Joong lets out a wry laugh, “Why? Cause your friends ditched you?” He stands up, taking a step closer to the other. “Listen, I’d be bummed, too if my rescue party ditched me and I was about to get my wrist cut open by some random dude on a starship." He holds onto the examination table to stay upright. 

 

“Now is not the time to be stupid- I’m serious,” Seonghwa insists, and, to his credit, he does look serious. “Think about it. This planet- there is a _reason_ you weren’t followed here.”

 

“Think about it?” Hongjoong huffs, irritation spiking in his chest, “I’m  _ sorry.  _ We weren’t given the luxury to think about  _ anything  _ before getting ambushed by every combat cruiser in the fucking sector.”

 

“Why would I lie to you about this? Nobody leaves this planet alive, do you hear me? Nobody-”

 

“I’ve had enough of you, so I’m gonna ask you nicely one last time: give me your wrist.”

 

“You may have those other idiots under some kind of spell, but I am not one of your pathetic little crew. You don’t give me orders.”

 

Hongjoong heaves a sigh and shrugs, “Well, I tried to be nice.” Even though the ship skids haphazardly against the atmosphere, he risks letting go of the exam table. In one swift move he jumps toward Seonghwa and extends the tranquilizer needle as far as he possibly can toward the prisoner. 

 

The platinum blond isn’t fast enough to respond, and soon he finds himself under Hongjoong yet again. Except, this time, he’s not getting up. The injector sticks out of Seonghwa’s shoulder, a soft hissing noise coming out as it empties its contents into the other’s bloodstream. A choked gasp catches in Seonghwa’s throat, and he looks up at Hongjoong in shock.

 

“Wha… Wha did you-” His eyelids start to fall heavily,“Wha- you do tome?” He slurs.  


 

“Shhh,” Hongjoong hushes the other patronizingly, “It’s just a bit of tranquilizer is all. You’ll sleep it right off.”

 

“We’re all gon die,” Seonghwa laments hazily.

 

“Well if you  _ insist _ , then you go first,” Joong snarks. 

 

“Hate… You…” The dazed blond murmurs before his eyes finally shut. His head falls back onto floor with a soft thud.

 

“Fucking finally,” Hongjoong lets out a breath of relief. Even though the ship is shaking violently, he concentrates on extracting Seonghwa’s chip. The last thing he needs is for the bastard to put out a distress signal  _ again _ . With shaky hands, Joong picks up the other wrists. He makes the smallest incision he can manage just above the blinking chip. Using his thumb, he feels under the skin, pushing it out through the incision.

 

The sight of it makes him squirm, but  Seonghwa’s out like a light. Joong almost gags when he sees the little metal hunk sticking out, covered in blood. He squeezes his eyes shut, pushing the rest of it out of the little incision as fast as he can manage. 

 

“Captain?” The intercom clicks to life again, and it’s Yunho, “You alright?”

 

“Alright is a relative term right now- but I’ve gotten the blackcoat taken care of,” Joong answers. He paws around his surroundings, grabbing the nearest bandage he can find and wrapping the other’s wrist. Just because he doesn’t like the petty officer doesn’t mean he wants him to just bleed everywhere. That's gross (and unsanitary). 

 

“Well good. Try to uh, hold onto something. We’re gonna make a crash landing. There’s a little island that should work.”

 

“Wait- What did you just say?”

 

“There’s… A little isl-”

 

“About a crash landing?”

 

“Oh, yeah, we’re gonna crash- but like, only sort of. You see half of our landing gear is-”  _ “Bang.” _ “-sort of damaged. So… Yeah!” 

 

“Click.” He hangs up before Hongjoong can question his crash landing anymore.

 

_ “Clang!!” _

 

The ship jerks roughly, and Hongjoong slams into the exam table. Seonghwa rolls across the floor, but he remains dead asleep. It’s almost impressive.

 

More and more loud noises echo through the hull of the ship. The sound of loud scraping shreds the air, and the caterwaul fills Hongjoong’s ears. 

 

_ “Thud!” _

 

The ship seems to hit something - something solid, and it (along with everything inside) bounces. Joong murmurs some curses to himself. He clings to one of the support bars of the exam table with one arm. With the other, he reaches out to grab his prisoner. It’s more reflex than a strong desire to keep the other from harm. Anyways, he’s treated the guy for one injury, he doesn’t wanna have to do another.

 

  
Their ship skips against whatever surface they’d managed to land on, each bounce along solid ground sending its contents flying. The loud thuds of contact start becoming more frequent, until the sound turns into a more steady, skidding groan. Hongjoong can still feel the force of inertia willing his body back and away from his hold on the table. Clenching his teeth, he strains to hold onto both his anchor and the unconscious human.

 

_ “Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud-thud-! Thud-thud-thud-thud-grrrrrrrrrr-!” _

 

Jarring jerks gradually give way to a general grumbling, until finally the vessel emits only a low, rumbling growl. Sweat drops down Hongjoong’s nape as the ship slowly comes down from its entry velocity until, finally, screeching to a jerky stop. 

 

Then, everything’s quiet.

 

Hongjoong’s arms drop, sore from strain, and he heaves a sigh of relief, practically melting into a puddle from the alleviation.

 

They did it. Somehow, some way, they made it out alive. Again.

 

* * *

Smoke billows out of one of their freighter’s propulsors, and static crackles dangerously. Hongjoong frowns, looking at the mess they’d made. Flattened trees mark the path they’d crashed from, their bowed trunks going on for kilometers behind the eventual landing site. The second the captain had stepped out, he passed through a wall of humidity and salt. It seems they’d landed somewhere sunny, warm, and wet. Very wet.

 

Miraculously, nobody had gotten hurt except for the ship. Aside from some sore spots and bruises, everyone had gotten out fine. The interior of the ship had also remained untouched, which meant Officer Park’s cell remained secure as ever. Joong’s grateful for those little things.

 

Yunho’s the last out of the ship, his tail wagging at the sight of everyone, “Good news!”

 

Hongjoong’s face lights up - they can really use some good news, “Oh- What is it?”

 

“This ship’s pretty high end- at least when it comes to its fortification.”

 

“So? What does that mean?”

 

“It’s self-repairing- superficial damages of course, but the shields are already regenerating, and the outer armor shells can regenerate as well.”

 

Hongjoong grins, “Thank god. At least that’s _one_ thing going right.”

 

“Hey,” Wooyoung who’d been scanning the immediate area walks up behind them, “You dechipped the petty officer. Give yourself credit: that’s two things going right.”

 

Joong chuckles sheepishly and shakes his head, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

 

“Really?” Jongho adds from his perch on the nearby loading ramp. “Because it sounded like a big deal to me. You were all like ‘ugh’ and he was all like ‘ahh!’ and then you were like ‘hurgh’-” He says, pantomiming the struggle.

 

“Yeah, well I took care of it, okay? He’ll probably be out for awhile,” Hongjoong glances at their smoldering ship again, “Looks like we all will.”

 

“Yeah,” Wooyoung turns to the canis, “Yunho how long is this gonna take d’you think?”

 

“The shields will take a few hours to go back online, then they’ll regenerate slowly. The outer armor only took superficial damage, so according to the computer that’ll just take a few hours.”

 

“What about our landing gear?”

 

“That’s the tricky part. Ship can repair some of the outer damage, but the hydraulics would need a manual replacement. She can land again, but it won’t be smooth.”

 

Jongho pouts, “As long as it’s not a crash landing, I don’t care.”

 

“So we’ve got a few hours to kill, a ship that’s probably a huge mess, and some parts that need repaired. Does that sound about right?” Hongjoong asks. The others nod.

 

The captain studies their surroundings. Except for the massive hunk of smoking metal in the middle of knocked over trees, everything looks calm. The gentle crashing of waves echoes into the hot, wet forest they’d crashed into - from how loud it is, Joong guesses that the shore isn’t very far. Hongjoong had never seen so many trees in one place before. They’re all so green, so _real_. He tries to remember his schooling. Palm trees are easy, he remembers those, but then there’s a bunch of shorter, brushier greens. There’s fern-ish looking things, and tall grasses, too. 

 

_ Tropical _ \- he remembers. That’s the word for it. They’d landed in a  _ tropical  _ forest.

 

The sky is blue, bluer than any blue Hongjoong had looked at before. It’s pure and clear to the point of almost seeming glassy. There’s not a single cloud blocking the not one but _two_ small suns from gleaming in full force. The only thing stopping the heat from being completely oppressive is the gentle breeze running through the place.

 

“Let’s leave our ship to repair for awhile and explore,” Hongjoong decides. “We’ve got plenty of time. I dunno how long days are here, but that sun seems to be almost at the top of the sky. That gives us a good amount of time.”

 

Jongho hops off of his perch on the ramp and walks toward the group, “D’you think there’s actually anyone here? This place seems deserted.”

 

“This is the only land for tens of thousands of kilometers,” Yunho responds. “If there’s people, they’re gonna be here.”

 

“Huh. Maybe that’s why nobody settled here. What if it really is deserted?”

 

“Nah,” Wooyoung, his lips downturn slightly. “That’s not how the Coalition works. They’ll conquer anything if they can. This was in the database, but aside from rudimentary geographics, it’s uncharted. Technically, it’s an independent planet.”

 

“A what?” Yunho asks confusedly.

 

“Y’know - an independent planet. One of the lucky few that’s managed to fight off the GC so many times that the fuckers just gave up and let them be.”

 

“Oh, right. I- I knew that,” Yunho replies sheepishly. Hongjoong neglects to correct that Yunho, in fact, did  _ not  _ know that. Of course, it’s a wonder he can even read considering that hybrids weren’t allowed to attend schools. Joong just snuck him whatever books and materials he could. 

 

“Well, if it’s independent then there has to be someone here,” Hongjoong remarks. “Someone  _ had  _ to fight them off, right?”

 

“We’re not gonna find out by standing round,” Jongho declares. He marches off in no direction in particular without warning, and the others scramble to follow him. Wooyoung’s the last to scuttle into line after locking up the ship, and soon they’re off.

 

Steam floats up from the muggy ground, and the droplets of water cling to every leaf, root, and lichen they can find. Hongjoong’s jaw is dropped open the entire time, and he drinks in the new, exotic terrain. Trees tower over them left and right. Their foliage spreads so wide, it almost smothers the sunlight in its canopy. Little slivers of light trickle through, drawing patterns on the surface below. Occasionally, a burst of flora adds a splash of color - red, orange, and yellow blooms crop up from the ferns and shrubberies below. The faint murmuring of waves filters in, but aside from that, the place is unfathomably quiet. Even the sound of their footsteps crunching leaves below feels muted, muffled.

 

It truly does appear deserted.

 

Hongjoong isn’t quite sure how long they hike in silence. Whether it’s due to quiet awe or contemplation, not a single on of them speaks for what feels like close to an hour. Yunho’s the first to break the spell.

 

“Maybe this place really is deserted,” He mumbles. Even though he hadn’t spoken loudly, his voice echoes. It carries loudly across the entire forest floor - like the tree trunks are tuning forks or something. “Whoa.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense, though,” Wooyoung says. “Doesn’t fit GC MO to just leave a place like this untouched.”

 

“Maybe we killed everyone when we crashed,” Jongho states dryly.

 

“What? _Why_ would you say that?!” Hongjoong gasps.

 

“I’m just saying, we can’t count out the possibility.”

 

“I would’ve smelled dead people,” Yunho mentions. ”I just- I don’t smell anything.”

 

“What do you mean you don’t smell anything?” Wooyoung asks.

 

“Like- I mean, it smells wet. Must. Dirt. Salt and water, but no people. Well, except for us. I hear… The waves and our footsteps. Our voices echoing and some waterfalls and little creeks.”

 

“Shit, it really is deserted, then,” Hongjoong frowns. He heaves a sigh, wondering where to go from here. What to do, what to do, he ponders. He figured he’d find people and ask for help - or at least apologize for wrecking half of their island. The forest is beautiful, but there’s not much they can use. As far as he knows, there’s no useful or valuable resources. He doesn’t even see fruit on any of the trees. Thinking about food gives him an idea, “Wait- there’s an ocean, right?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Yuno replies. “Passed over it on the way down. _Lots_ of ocean.”

 

“Well there’s gotta be fish-  _ fresh  _ fish. We collect water to get salt, and there might be kelp or seaweed. Might as well do something with the time we’ve got. It’s never a bad idea to stock up on food.”

 

The others exchange inquisitive looks before nodding affirmatively. Just as the collective starts heading back the way they came, Yunho stops abruptly.

 

“Do you guys hear that?” The humecanis asks, his brows knit in concentration.

 

“Hear what?” Hongjoong asks.

 

Wooyoung lifts a hand, “No, no I- I hear it, too it’s like… Humming.” Jongho and Hongjoong trade confused looks before straining to listen themselves.

 

It’s faint, very, very faint, but it’s there. Just barely distinguishable above the soft crashing of waves there’s a noise. It’s high and almost shrill, like a whistle or - yes - a hum. However, it’s not just a steady drone, the pitch shifts. It’s a melody. A bird? The strange voice echoes softly through the forest, barely there.

 

“It sounds like a song,” Jongho says. “Okay- Now I’m officially freaked out.”

 

“What if it’s a person?” Hongjoong asks. “If it’s a person, shouldn’t we follow it?”

 

Yunho shakes his head, “I dunno if I can say it’s humanoid.”

 

“If we approach carefully, I think we’ll be fine. Why don’t we check it out?”

 

“Sounds good to me,” Jongho shrugs.

 

“Whatever you say, captain,” Yunho agrees.

 

Hongjoong nods,“Alright, Yunho if you can just lead us- Wooyoung?” His eyes widen, “W-Wooyoung? Guys, where did Wooyoung go?”

 

Their heads whip around in search of their fourth man. Shock seizes the crew upon realizing that their surroundings include: trees, trees, and more trees. Wooyoung is nowhere to be seen.

 

Joong tries shouting, “Wooyoung?” The name echoes across the empty forest ominously, and the captain curses,“Son of a bitch.”

 

* * *

_ “I… ee… l… w… igh… h…” _

 

The faint hum reverberates throughout the forest, and Wooyoung’s feet carry him toward the sound. He’s not sure whether it’s instinct, reflex, or plain stupidity that prompted him to move, but at this point he’s committed. The melody evolves, it deepens into something more concrete than a shrill sound.

 

It’s a voice, soft and lilting. Wooyoung can’t determine why, but he’s overcome with the desire to find the source of that voice. Even from far away, it captivates him.

 

_ “How I… light… ba… ee…” _

 

Sweat beads on Wooyoung’s forehead as he rushes toward that sound. Vague utterances solidify from noises to syllables, then words. In the distance, the human can see a bright light, and the trees grow thin. There, he realizes, in the clearing up ahead, is the source of this melody. The feeling of closeness pushes Wooyoung into a sprint, and he nearly trips over the roots as he races toward that place. He bats away leaves and branches, a sudden, strange desperation closing in around him. 

 

He bounds to the clearing, and when he’s finally there, he freezes. His guts twist, and his heart stops. Out of breath, he watches in awe, paralyzed with captivation. In the middle of the clearing is a pond, and bathing in that pond is the most stunning creature Jung Wooyoung has ever laid eyes on.

 

* * *

For awhile, lucidity only comes to Petty Officer Park Seonghwa in brief spells. He watches life play out before him from behind a thick curtain of drug-induced haze. There’s a brief memory of… Flying? Not quite, he thinks. He was airborne for certain, but tethered to something. He certainly wasn’t in control. Then black. The next thing he can recall is being carried, but that instance is so brief he’s not positive that the memory is real. 

 

All he knows for certain is where he’s woken up: his cell. Seongwha scowls as he takes glances around the painfully familiar surroundings. Same cell. Same cot. Same tiny washroom stall. The space is probably not much bigger than a closet. The officer lets out an indignant puff of breath and crosses his arms.

 

He sits up in his cot and retraces the day again, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. He woke up, that much he recalls. Did a bit of exercise and ate breakfast. Breakfast. Remembering it makes a thorny shiver run down his spine. He’d been delivered his food by the captain of all people. Though Seonghwa prides himself on maintaining his composure, he concedes that the other’s presence somewhat compromises that. ( _Only_ somewhat, though.) 

 

After that, things got hectic. The GC collection squad came, but - Seonghwa has no idea how - the fugitives managed to evade. As their pilot did no doubt questionable maneuvers to stay afloat, the captain dragged the PO to the infirmary. It takes a few seconds, but the memory quickly illuminates. He’d been taken to the infirmary to have his chip removed.

 

Seonghwa gasps, lifting his wrist to look. His soul practically leaves his body upon seeing not a perfectly normal, chipped wrist, but a stringy bandage. Red stains the haphazardly tied thing, and though blood never freaked Hwa out before, the thought of just who’d wrapped the bandage does.

 

“Oh my god,” He chokes out unintentionally. “Oh my god- oh my god-” He yanks the bandage off, desperately praying that the captain’s attempt at dechipping had been unsuccessful. It wasn’t. On the contrary, the captain was very successful. Just above where there used to live a chip is a slender slit. It’s already started scabbing over, but there’s still the faint trace of rusty red blood. 

 

“H-he mutilated me,” Seongwha says to himself, trauma painted on his face. A wave of needling panic washes over the petty officer, and he braces himself to bear it. He grips the edge of his cot with white knuckles, willing himself to calm down. It takes a minute or two, but eventually he staves off the hysterics. 

 

Park Seongwha wasn’t ever someone a person would describe as violent, belligerent, or vengeful. He likes order, that’s all. Seonghwa has an appreciation for organization and good behavior, it’s part of why he pursued the path of a Coalition officer. He doesn’t like violence, but he’s not highly opposed to using it either. But, god, does “captain” Kim Hongjoong (and his motley crew of bastards) give him savage, brutal urges. 

 

Part of him wants to throw himself against the cell walls in hopes of breaking out, but he knows that’s stupid. He’s not some freak like that Jongho kid. No, Seonghwa thinks to himself. He collects the reddened bandage he’d torn off and starts resecuring it around his wrist. As appealing as fantasies of strangling his captors is, Hwa opts to be more productive.

 

Assuming they’d been stupid enough to get off of the ship, they’re all dead, anyways. And so, the solitary prisoner resigns himself to calculating. He ponders way to get the hell out of his cell and how to get another beacon going. 

 

Soon, he thinks, I’ll escape. 

 

It’s almost a pity in his eyes. They won’t be alive to see it, and he won’t get to watch the looks on their faces as he finally cuffs them for good.

 

Too bad.


	2. Chapter 2

Sun shines brightly down on the clearing. It glistens off of the other creature’s skin, and the reflection is almost pearlescent. Even though Wooyoung can only see the humanoid’s back, somehow he knows that the person is beautiful. After all, how could they  _ not  _ be with  _ that voice _ ? What he can see is definitely gorgeous: jet-black hair streaked with red, slicked back with water dripping down a muscular back. The broad, toned shoulders taper in prettily to a narrow waist - the rest is obscured beneath the inky water of the pond, unfortunately. 

 

The mysterious person appears to be in their own little world. They idly splash water onto themself and sway with their own lilting melody:

 

“This is how I feel about you, twilight… It’s like twilight… Hmm, hmm, hmmm-hmm, hmm…”

 

His voice hits Wooyoung’s ears like sweet honey, dripping down lavishly. It’s airy like silk, but sweet like syrup. No matter how many metaphors and comparisons he tries to piece together in his head, nothing can do it justice. 

 

“Your singing is really beautiful,” He blurts out.

 

The person freezes and turns to glance over their shoulder. They don’t say anything, instead just looking the human up and down. Wooyoung isn’t sure if the look in their dark eyes is curiosity or judgment. What he can notice is a distinguished, carved jawline and pierced ears, dark eyes and high cheekbones. 

 

“S-Sorry,” Wooyoung clumsily apologizes, “I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just- Your voice is really nice.”

 

Another spell of silence ensues, Wooyoung biting his lip anxiously and the other just standing there, silent and contemplating. Finally, after what feels like a year, the silent beauty responds. He beckons Wooyoung forward with a smile, and his lips upturn into a little grin.

 

“Huh?” The human grunts dumbly. He’s usually a lot more capable than this, really, but his nerves get the best of him. 

 

The young man in the water beckons him again with a wagging finger, nonverbally saying, “Here. Come here.”

 

“You- You want me to-” He gestures to the water.

 

The other lets out a soft chuckle and turns back around. He starts humming again, apparently done talking (or, well, “talking”) to Wooyoung. The human stops and thinks for a second. On one hand, he sort of charged forward without thinking and ditched everyone else. It’d be prudent to grab them and then maybe introduce them to this person who could possibly help him.

 

Or he could, you know, not.

 

Jung Wooyoung is, in many ways, an uncomplicated man. Life itself is too complicated to hold oneself back, he thinks. And, when life gives him a pretty, naked boy telling him to get in the damn water - well, he’s very much inclined to do just that. The imprudent mantra plays in his head:

 

Why not?

 

What’s the  _ worst  _ that could happen?

 

Wooyoung throws his clothes of hastily, tangling in his shirt and almost falling as he kicks off his pants. When he’s down to underwear he wades steps into the pond gleefully. The fresh, cool sensation of water on his sweaty skin invigorates him, and he sighs happily upon surfacing. His new friend remains unshaken, humming contently toward the center. Wooyoung wades over to the other until the water’s up to about his waist - where the other is.

 

The human takes the liberty of looping around to stand in front the other and take everything in. The other greets him with a little grin, and Wooyoung nearly dies on the spot. He’s beautiful. His face looks like it’d been carved by an artist with pretty, cat-like eyes and charming dimples. Something does strike Wooyoung as unusual, though. He squints at the other’s neck, and on each side of his adam’s apple is a set of... cuts?

 

“So your face is just as gorgeous as your voice,” Wooyoung shamelessly flirts. (He  _ was  _ invited in after all, clearly the attraction is mutual.)

 

The other laughs again. It’s an effervescent, sweet sound that makes Wooyoung almost lightheaded. The way laughter blossoms on the other’s face is so charming, the human wants to reach out and grab the guy’s cheeks. 

 

“So… You can understand what I’m saying, right?” Wooyoung asks.

 

The other nods, grinning coyly. 

 

“Can you talk? I mean, you can sing, so-”

 

The other nods again.

 

“How come you don’t talk then- I mean, not that I mind. I just- do you have a name?” 

 

A full-fledged smile spreads on the other’s face as he laughs, his shoulders shaking. Wooyoung’s not sure what he said that was so hilarious, but he doesn’t really care. The other looks adorable when he’s all giggly, so even if it’s at his expense, Wooyoung takes it as a win.

 

The stranger lifts a finger again, waving it to invite Wooyoung even closer. Wooyoung shuffles in slightly, but the stranger continues to gesture and gesture and gesture until they’re almost just centimeters apart. Heat flushes Wooyoung’s cheeks, and he waits, wondering what the other wants to be so close for.

 

Slowly, the enigmatic beauty leans in. He leans closer and closer, his breath tickling Wooyoung’s face until he finally stops by his ear.

 

“Choi San,” The stranger - Choi San - whispers in Wooyoung’s ears. In sharp contrast to his singing, the other’s speaking voice is low and almost raspy. It makes shivers run down Wooyoung’s spine.

 

Wooyoung tries not to get too ahead of himself. He can nearly feel the heat radiating off of the other’s body. The urge to grab him and do what people so often do proceeding heavy flirtation is strong. He doesn’t, though. Not yet. Soon? God he hopes so. 

 

“I’m Wooyoung. I-Is there a reason you’re whispering?” Wooyoung lets out a chuckle that he hope doesn’t sound as breathless as he feels. He’s typically pretty smooth in these situations, but for once he’s not the one in the driver’s seat.

 

“It’s more fun, isn’t it? More personal.”

 

A smile plays at the edges of Wooyoung’s lips, “I never thought of it like that.”

 

“But you like it, don’t you?”

 

He’s not wrong.

 

“What makes you so sure?” Wooyoung answers the question with one of his own. (He’s way too prideful to just up and admit that he’s enjoying it.)

 

San’s arms snake around Wooyoung’s neck, resting there almost lazily. The embrace is loose, but even so the contact smolders the human beneath. 

 

“I can tell,” San lilts hushedly, like it’s a secret. He starts gently guiding Wooyoung further into the pond.

 

“You can tell?” Wooyoung asks. “Are you an esper or a psychic?”

 

San laughs again, and the sound almost makes Wooyoung drunk, “It’s not about what I am, it’s about what you are.” The two wade slowly into the deeper parts of the pond.

 

“What I am?”

 

“Mhm. I can easily tell what you want just from knowing what you are.”

 

“And what is it, exactly, that I am?” Wooyoung wonders. His feet lose contact with the floor of the pond, but San steadily guides him further. He seems to be a strong swimmer, which is good. Wooyoung wonders just how floating in water will affect other unholy activities that are no doubt minutes away.

 

“You’re a man, aren’t you?” San says, lightly grazing his nose against Wooyoung’s earlobe. Electricity sparks from the point of contact, burning the human from the inside out. Desire smolders and stews in his gut as tension mounts.

 

“I am,” He answers.

 

“Exactly. And what men want, men get.”

 

“In an ideal world, I guess.”

 

“Well, pretend we’re in an ideal world. Tell me, what do you desire, Wooyoung?” San whispers as they float further and further from the pond’s shallow edges.

 

“I think you know exactly what I want.”

 

“It’s more fun when you say it.”

 

Wooyoung says frankly, “I want you, Choi San.”

 

The quiet enigma answers, “And I bet I can guess exactly what you want to do to me.”

 

“Say the word and you won’t need to guess,” Wooyoung answers.

 

San chuckles at that, the mirthy sound once again intoxicating Wooyoung. His laughs go in through the human’s ears and seem to magically seep right into his bloodstream, rushing through his veins. It actually makes his vision swim temporarily (though that might just be the blood rushing somewhere else). It isn’t until San comes down from his fit of laughter that Wooyoung manages to sober up. It’s not the lack of giggles that breaks the spell, but the low, almost growled words the other speaks:

 

“Typical human.”

 

Wooyoung blinks confusedly, “I-I’m sorry- what was that?”

 

San leans back and looks Wooyoung in the eye, a cheshire grin on his face, “You’re such a typical human. You’re exactly like they said a man would be.”

 

All the happy tension and joy that had pent up in Wooyoung’s body vanishes in an instant, “Wh- What did you say?”

 

“Man sees a pretty thing, and what’s his first reaction? He wants to conquer,” San says bitterly.

 

Wooyoung’s brows furrow, and he makes a move to get away. Unfortunately, San’s hold around his neck keeps him from getting far.

 

“Hey, let me go. Look, I’m sorry if I offended you-”

 

“You’re  _ sorry _ ?” The other laughs, “Spare me. A minute ago all you could think about was one thing, and it wasn’t an apology.”

 

“That’s not fair-”  _ “Spliiish!” _ The water splashes loudly as Wooyoung struggles.

 

“No, what isn’t fair is you people showing up time and time again trying to take something that isn’t yours,” The beauty roughly shoves Wooyoung down beneath the surface of the water.

 

Wooyoung panics, flailing around in the water. His lungs almost burst from being held down, but just seconds before he breathes in water, he manages to surface.

 

The human gasps and coughs wildly, “What the- what the hell-”

 

“All men do is try to conquer everything in their path. Everything is a conquest to you people-” San pushes Wooyoung down again. 

 

Wooyoung tries to pry San’s hands off of him, but he can’t. His chest aches from the struggle of fighting off the other and holding his breath. He wonders how in the hell a guy who looks even skinnier than him has the power to hold him down. Unfortunately, he doesn’t really get the privilege of reflecting on it too much. He’s let up again, heaving for air desperately when he resurfaces. Dots start dancing in his vision as the other’s voice enters his ears once more.

 

“You treat the mere existence of something you want as an invitation to come- come take it!” San exclaims bitterly. He finally lets go of Wooyoung and sinks beneath the depths of the pond. For the briefest of seconds, the human feels relief.

 

That second ends really, really quick.

 

A strong force yanks Wooyoung under. The human flails, but the grip around his ankle is vice like. He feels his body get dragged down, down, down into the depths of the pond. It almost feels endless. He looks up, and the light dancing across the surface feels so far away. 

 

Even in the water, San’s voice carries, loud and clear, “You think just because you’re not in uniform I don’t know what you are?”

 

Wooyoung thoughtlessly opens his mouth to beg the question “what?”. He forgets he’s underwater, and nothing but a strangle choke along with some bubbles leaves his throat. 

 

“You can join your brethren in the depths,” San lets go of Wooyoung’s ankle, swimming up to grab him by throat.

 

Even with pain pounding in his chest, Wooyoung ventures a look beneath him. It’s dark toward the bottom of the pond. He can just barely make out shapes scattered across the pond floor. Little, craggy sticks and rocks jut out from beneath the shifting sand. No, he realizes. He’s not looking at driftwood. He’s looking at bones - ribcages and femurs, skulls and even shredded bits of black fabric. His heart sinks.

 

Desperately, Wooyoung tries to shake free again. He thrashes and flails wildly, swinging his arms and kicking his legs. Miraculously, he lands a kick onto his assailant. The other’s grip slackens just enough for him to slip away. Wooyoung uses the other to kick off and rushes to the surface.

 

He gasps loudly upon surfacing, taking in sweet, delicious air. It feels like he’d been punched in the lungs, but he pushes forward. Desperately, he swims as fast as he can toward the edge. It strikes him as strange that San isn’t pursuing him, but moments later, he figures out why. The second his feet touch, he breaks out into a run, frantically wading toward the surface.

 

_ “Splaaash!” _ San rises from the water right in front of Wooyoung out of nowhere. Not a trace of the coy, flirtatious person who’d been present earlier can be seen. Instead, he looks down at the human who’d stumbled back, eyes full of cold malice. 

 

“I - nor anyone else on this planet, anything else on this planet - is yours to claim.”

 

“I- I didn’t want to- I’m not-” Wooyoung coughs and sputters as he backs away, but it seems like Choi San’s mind is made up.

 

“I’ve heard the stories of how you poisoned the oceans of Old Earth, strangled out the life from it, spilled venom inside it. Humanity is a parasite, and we sure as hell aren’t your next host,” He says, closing in on the other menacingly.

 

“I told you, I’m not with-” The human breaks out into a fit of coughs. “I’m not- I’m-”

 

“You’re not what? Not human?” San scoffs, “Are you seriously going to insult my intelligence in this situation?”

 

“No, I meant that I’m-”

 

“Humans really are disgusting creatures,” San snarls. He lunges forward to grab Wooyoung again.

 

Wooyoung flinches, choking out his response, “I’m sorry!” He barely manages. He braces himself, dreading the inevitable lung-crushing sensation of being yanked down once again.

 

He waits. 

 

And waits and waits and waits.

 

For a second, Wooyoung wonders if he’s already dead, if San had mercifully made it quick. 

 

But he’s not.

 

Wooyoung hesitantly blinks his eyes open. He’s still exactly where he’d been a minute ago, on his ass in the shallow part of the pond. San’s still in the same place too. Except, instead of furious he looks… Confused. Making matters worse, now that everything’s weirdly calmed down, Wooyoung finds the other’s nudity very distracting.

 

The human strains to focus his vision very intensely on the other’s feet as he asks, “Wh… What are you gonna do to m-”

 

“What did you say?” San cuts him off. He kneels down (and thankfully submerges the lower half of his body in water). 

 

“I asked what you’re gonna do to me.”

 

“I- I meant before that.”

 

“I…” Wooyoung has to think for a second. What did he say? He’d been so full of dread and fear, he could’ve said anything. The spark of recollection ignites in his head, and he repeats himself, “I said I’m sorry, San.” He looks the other earnestly in the eye.

 

“What- um, I- why did you say that?” San looks utterly baffled, like he’d been handed back a test and learned all the answers were wrong.

 

“Well, because I am.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You- you went on about all the shit humans have done. To your people and even to Old Earth, and… You’re right. Humans  _ did  _ do all of those things,” Wooyoung frowns. “I’m just- I’m sorry your people had to go through what they did- the invasions. It couldn’t have been easy keeping the GC away for so long. I know how adamant they can be. Your kind probably lost a lot of good people in the struggle. I admit, even I’m… Not exactly an angel. I’ve done things, bad things- and I’ve wronged some people. I did it for survival, but that doesn’t always make it okay. I am  _ not _ , however, GC.  _ No way _ . We just stole that ship.”

 

San takes a moment to process it. Wooyoung can tell the other is genuinely wrestling with something, the way his pupils dance and how his fingers fidget. The sight is a far departure from the killer he’d been faced with not minutes earlier. Wooyoung swears he can just barely hear the other curse under his breath.

 

“We’re told to kill any intruders we see- especially human, but…” The other pouts, and if he hadn’t been hellbend on killing earlier, Wooyoung would find it it incredibly cute. (He only finds it  _ moderately  _ cute in lieu of the almost-murder.)

 

San sighs sadly, “I don’t wanna kill you.”

 

“Well, I don’t wanna invade your planet or- or whatever. We crash landed here because it was the only place we could lose the blackcoats,” Wooyoung replies. “The ship just needs some time to self repair.”

 

“Your ship? The one you stole from the Galactic Coalition?” 

 

“That’s the one.”

 

“And you were running away from them.”

 

“Uh, yeah?”

 

“How’d you end up in that situation?”

 

“It’s a, um, a long story. Remember when I said I’m not exactly an angel?”

 

San laughs, and this time it seems genuine. He does it not for the sake of seduction or at the other’s expense. He’s just happy. It’s endearing, the way his nose scrunches and shoulders shake with happiness. Wooyoung’s heart glows, and he relaxes a tiny bit.

 

“It’s okay, I’ve got a naughty streak, too,” San jokes.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah. Don’t tell anyone, but,” He lowers his voice to a whisper, “I’m not supposed to be here.”

 

Wooyoung scans the pond, “Wh- Here? In the pond?”

 

San nods, grinning cheekily, “We’re not supposed to go on land. Or talk to humans. Or leave them alive.”

 

“Tsk tsk,” Wooyoung chastises sarcastically, “You’ve been bad, Choi San. Wait- What do you mean you’re not supposed to be on land?” His face scrunches with puzzlement.

 

San giggles and points to his neck, tilting his head up to give Wooyoung a better look. The human leans in and inspects the cuts there again. Giving them a closer look, he notices that they’re not cuts at all. They’re  _ gills _ .

 

“Whoa- holy shit,” Wooyoung gawks. “I- Oh my god it makes so much sense now.” He wrings a hand through his hair, “I- I feel so stupid.”

 

“I thought you’d figured it out by now.”

 

“Holy fuck- You’re a merman.”

 

“Siren, actually,” San corrects emphatically. “We’re called  _ sirens _ . We don’t have fish tails, see?” Water splashes loudly as he lifts his leg up for display. It’s long, slender, well-toned and most of all  _ distracting _ . Luckily the siren puts it down before Wooyoung does or says something that  _ actually _ gets him drowned. “Also merpeople are made up. I mean, really? People with fish tails? And humans find them sexy?” San scrunches his nose, “Ew.”

 

“Sorry. I- Wow, I’ve- I’ve never even met a- or even heard of a siren.”

 

“Well, we  _ do  _ usually kill everybody that visits our planet, so,” San shrugs nonchalantly. Like he didn’t just casually mention the mass slaughtering of any and all humans who landed on his planet.

 

“So you can breathe underwater- or any liquid?”

 

“It has to be primarily water. Think of it like air. I mean- we’re amphibious, but our people evolved to favor water, what with our planet being covered in it.”

 

“But if that’s the case then why come all the way here to swim?”

 

“Because-” San flops onto his back happily, sloshing water all around him, “-fresh water is the  _ best _ .”

 

Wooyoung paddles up to the other’s side, “Really? What’s the difference?”

 

“Have you ever accidentally swallowed sea water?”

 

“But aren’t you supposed to, like, breathe the stuff?”

 

“Okay, yeah, but-” San sits up again, crossing his legs beneath him, “Maybe a better metaphor is to compare it to your air. Sure some people might like the air by the sea, but compare that to a spring breeze in a meadow. Fresh water it’s like- it’s so earthy and- and  _ pure.” _

 

“So you like to sneak off so you can have a forbidden breath of fresh air- er, water?”

 

“Yeah, pretty much,” San replies with a chuckle. “Plus it’s nice out here, I… I know it’s blasphemous - not to you, but to my people - but I actually like it on the surface. I mean, not all the time, but it’s pretty. The trees here are so much greener, and you can feel the warmth of the sun on your skin.” He keens just mentioning it. “This is the closest island for half the globe. Sometimes, I wish I could see more than just this. I’ve read stories about mountains that breathe fire and holes that erupt water. It’d be so cool to see something like that.”

 

“Why aren’t you allowed on land?” Wooyoung asks.

 

San shrugs, “We’re more vulnerable on the surface. Even before the GC tried to take over, sailors and adventurers would stop by and try to take us away.”

 

“Whoa- Take you away? Like- snatching people?”

 

“Yeah- At least, according to the history books. My people were taken. They’d turn them into private entertainers, use them for their ability to breathe underwater or make them work building stuff- but it’s been centuries since that happened. It’s just some outdated law kept alive by superstitions of the unknown. Nobody’s stupid enough to come here now.”

 

“Except us, apparently,” Wooyoung laughs.

 

“Yeah, except you and…” San trails off, his jovial expression dropping abruptly. “Wait, you came here with others?”

 

“Uh- Yeah, I guess I didn’t explicitly mention that,” Wooyoung chuckles sheepishly. “They’re cool, though, I promise. They wouldn’t dream of hurting anything on your planet. You should meet them! You’d love Hongjoong and- oh, the Compass- they, uh, are probably wondering where I am.”

 

“Do you know where they are?” San asks worriedly.

 

“Um, not exactly, but it can’t be too hard to find them, I don’t think. This island is tiny and-“

 

“They’re not by the water, are they?”

 

“What?”

 

“The- the shore of the beach.”

 

“Um… I don’t really know. Why?”

 

San bursts up, anxiously, water splashing loudly around him. He wrings a hand through his hair and paces.

 

“Listen, my people- they’re not exactly as understanding as me,” The siren frowns. “If they’ve gone anywhere near the water, well it… It might be too late.”

 

Wooyoung’s jaw drops, “Uh-oh.”

 

“Um- um, I mean, they’re probably still alive, but- but we have to hurry.”

 

“Hurry what?”

 

“Maybe I can talk the chief out of executing them. We have to get there fast.”

 

“Talk the who out of what?!” Everything’s moving way too fast for Wooyoung to keep up. He’d gone from flirting to nearly getting drowned, to having a nice coversation, and now he’s… Talking a chief of something out of an execution?! His mind reels, hardly recovered from the oxygen deprivation earlier. He hears splashing, and soon his clothes are tossed at him, splashing beside him.

 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Wooyou says when a few pieces of the puzzle manage to slot in. “My friends are gonna die?!”

 

* * *

“Wooyoung!” Jongho hollers into the forest.

 

“Wooyoung!” Yunho echoes the other.

 

“Jung Wooyoung!” Hongjoong calls.

 

They’d been at it for close to an hour, but they’ve gotten nothing. Yunho - having not memorized the other’s scent - picked up trail after trail, only to quickly lose it  or find himself walking in circles. The peculiar acoustics of the forest made it almost impossible for even the keen canis to hear anything beyond their voices - a strange contrast from the sound they’d heard earlier. Even more baffling is the fact that the humming quickly stopped after Wooyoung’s disappearance. After frustrations trying to follow Yunho’s senses, they tried logic instead.

 

Jongho suggested they head to the beach - it seemed a logical place for someone to wander. And so they hike toward the ever growing sound of waves gently crashing onto sand. The tall palms and brushy ferns had begun to gradually thin out, and now the deep, blue sea of the strange planet is visible just beyond the treeline.

 

“Let’s go to the beach!” Hongjoong says, skipping over roots and rocks to get to the sandbar beyond.

 

Humid, salty air fills the captain’s nose as he steps into the open. The sand is soft, almost pillowy beneath his feet, and the fine grains are so white, they’re almost luminous. Waves ebb and flow onto the shore with a soft, rhythmic sound. Combined with the heat and the gentle breeze, the place almost lulls Hongjoong to sleep. He stubbornly shakes off the urge to just lie down on the sand. They need to find Wooyoung. 

 

The strange planet they’d landed on is beautiful, no doubt. It’s the sort of place he’d only dreamed of as a kid. He saw it in pictures and even read about the great adventurer Dex stopping somewhere very similar. However, the more time he spends on the blue planet, the more uncomfortable he gets. It’s a strange, paranoid sort of feeling, and since losing Wooyoung, it had perpetually creeped further and further across his body - from his mind down to his worry stricken chest and tossing stomach. 

 

Something isn’t quite right on this planet, and he can’t begin to figure out what.

 

“Thank god,” Yunho sighs happily, “Water. I’m so hot.”

 

“You’re not thinking of drinking that, are you?” Jongho asks.

 

“Wh- No. How stupid do you think I am?” Yunho trots up to the water, tail wagging wildly, “I wanna swim in it! I’ve never seen a beach in my life!”

 

“Is now really the time?”

 

Hongjoong shrugs, “He can jump in and roll around a little bit. I don’t want you guys dropping from heat exhaustion.” Joong’s more focused on studying the shoreline - looking for footprints or some sign of life.  Still, he doesn’t wanna ruin all of the fun.

 

“Thank you!” The canis chirps, and his happy exclamation is quickly followed by the sound of splashing.

 

“Wait for me!” Jongho (who’d been so opposed not a minute before) follows.

 

Hongjoong lets them be. They’re not children after all. He’s content to let them play while he inspects the beach. Walking around the immediate area, Joong doesn’t see much. There’s sand and water. Some driftwood and seaweed has washed up on shore - normal stuff. He notices a distinct lack of pollution. There’s no glass or scrap metal or paper. Normally, that’s a fantastic thing - it’s definitely not a level of purity he’s used to. Except, in this case, that just indicates that the place is totally deserted.

 

_“Splaash!”_ “Hey- hey, not my eye!” _“Splish-splish!”_ “I’m gonna get you.” “You wanna go?” _“Splash!”_

 

“You guys see anything in the water?” Joong calls out to them.

 

“Uh, no.” “No- wait- oh, that’s just some kelp.” They respond.

 

“Well, keep an eye out for anything. Maybe try to go deeper.”

 

“You don’t think Wooyoung drowned, do you?” Jongho asks.

 

Hongjoong scowls at the other, “Hey- don’t say that!” Just the thought of Wooyoung dying makes him want to die. It’s not like they’ve been acquainted for long, but in their short time together they’ve been through a lot. He can’t fathom losing him now.

 

“You’re the one telling us to go deeper,” The younger one pouts.

 

“I just wanna see if there’s signs of life,” Joong says. “Any life. Maybe a fishing net or crab trap. If someone’s here, they might be able to help us.”

 

“Okay.” “Yes, sir.”

 

Things go on for awhile in relative silence. Jongho and Yunho continue chattering in the water, half threatening to throw the other in, half searching for stuff. Joong walks down the beach slowly, combing the sand with his foot. It’s shocking, really. There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even any crabs or bugs. How? He wonders.

 

How?

 

“Whoa!” Yunho gasps loudly in awe.

 

Hongjoong’s eyes shoot to the other, and his eyes widen, “Did you find something?”

 

The tall humecanis looks teeny tiny with how far away he’s gotten. Joong can just barely see his curly tail wagging.

 

“Uh, no, not exactly,” Yunho shouts back. He beckons Jongho who’d been wandering a bit closer to the beach closer. “It’s just- It gets so deep so fast!” He hunches over.

 

Hongjoong finally decides the join the two in the water. He wades in carefully. The sand kicks up little clouds in the clear water as he steps. It gradually get’s deeper, but not by much. It’s not far above knee level when he reaches Yunho. That’s when he sees what the canis does: the drop off.

 

“Whoa…” Hongjoong gasps in awe. 

 

Yunho was right. It does get really deep, really fast. The water just off of the shore is clear and crystalline. It’s easy to see everything underneath. 

 

“See what I was talking about?” Yunho says, hunching over to stare into the depths. “It’s like a cliff or something.”

 

The three stand at the edge of a precipice. The crystal clear water and sand bar drop off at a steep angle into dark, almost inky looking water. Hongjoong tries to see what’s below, but he can’t no matter how much he squints. It’s odd and unfathomable. One second, there’s light aqua blue, the next it’s jet black. 

 

“It’s like a chasm,” Hongjoong comments. He gazes into the void of black, and it almost feels as if someone is looking back. The strange sensation unsettles him, to feel watched by pure nothingness. He wonders how far it goes. Does something live down there? Or is that, too, completely devoid of life?

 

“Whoa-“ Yunho gasps, “D’you see that?” He points to the black. For a second, Joong thinks it’s just the water moving, or kelp, but then he just barely discerns shifting silhouettes. “Oh my god- fishies!” The canis claps happily. 

 

“What? I wanna see!” Jongho exclaims. He joins Yunho’s side, and the two stick their faces in the water.

 

Hongjoong reaches out to yank them by the collars,“Guys, hold on. I don’t know if that’s a good ide-“

 

_ “SPLAASH!” _

 

The captain’s stomach drops.

 

One second, Yunho is there. The next, he’s gone. Hongjoong just hardly catches the sight of his friend’s feet disappearing into the depths. 

 

“Yunho!” Hongjoong hollers. He reaches out, and luckily so does Jongho. 

 

They each grab an ankle and hold on with all their might. Luckily, Jongho is very mighty, and the two steadily reel their friend back in.

 

“What the hell is going on?!” Jongho cries through gritted teeth. Even he’s straining, which is saying something. 

 

“I don’t know. M-maybe some gravitational pull or something?” Hongjoong guesses. The two dig their heels into the sand beneath, but it’s squishy and gives too much. Making progress is hard, and whatever’s pulling Yunho starts tugging back - harder. “Shit- If this is what got Wooyoung-“

 

“Then he’s already dead by now,” Jongho says grimly. 

 

Just as Hongjoong opens his mouth to say something, the force pulling Yunho yanks roughly. It sweeps Hongjoong off of his feet, sending him in with a splash. The captain hears Jongho yell something before he falls beneath the surface. Then, everything’s a blur.

 

Joong hears splashing, bubbles, and muffled shouts. He struggles, but something has him. It’s closed around his ankle with an unshakeable grip. Something else takes hold of one of his wrists - Jongho. The youngest valiantly tries to pull both of them out, but he slips and slides in the muddy sand. Hongjoong reflexively opens his mouth to shout, forgetting that he’s submerged. Only choked bubbles emerge from his throat. His eyes sting and pain explodes in his chest from the lack of air.

 

The light of the surface rapidly fades as he’s pulled below, and seconds later he can see the silhouette of Jongho get pulled under, too. 

 

That’s the last thing he remembers before he blacks out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // now with 100% more sexy fish men


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // WARNING: this chapter contains descriptions of drowning and waterboarding.

The tinny echo of water flowing enters Hongjoong’s ears. Vague hums of uttered words and sloshing water reverberate. 

 

“Mn…” Joong groans. He hacks and coughs as he blinks his eyes open, trying to piece together what the hell just happened. Everything’s blurry at first, nothing but smeared shapes and hazy outlines. Somehow, he’s laying down.

 

_ “Drip. Drip. Drip.” _

 

Hongjoong’s nose scrunches.

 

_ “Drip. Drip. Drip.” _

 

It tickles, the steady drop of water square on his nose. 

 

He opens his mouth again in an attempt to speak, but another violent hack ejects itself instead. His throat throbs with a stinging, scratchy pain. The smudged daze around him starts sharpening, materializing into things. Well, sort of. 

 

It’s dark, wherever it is. The only source of light seems to be something shifting up above.

 

_ “Drip. Drip. Drip.” _

 

Then there’s that. The water drip. 

 

Hongjoong looks up above to see just exactly what’s going on. What the hell is leaking? For a second, he sees it, but he can’t really comprehend. He asks himself: why does the ceiling look like water?

 

_ “Drip. Drip. Drip.” _

 

Joong tries to examine his surroundings, hoping it’ll shed some light on the situation. He considers that maybe he’s dreaming.

 

Slowly, the captain sits up to assess everything. 

 

Then, he thinks he’s definitely dreaming. In front of him - much like above him - appears to be water. A wall of water. It doesn’t make any sense. How can there just be water? Standing vertically like some kind of divide? He swears that he can see something shifting behind it, but he’s far too disoriented to trust his eyesight in that moment. Feeling the floor below him, it feels… Dry? Like ground. Solid, dirty ground.

 

His head whips around, suddenly remembering that he’d been with two other people. Seeing Yunho and Jongho passed out beside him assures him that he is, in fact, not dreaming. His heart sinks upon realizing it.

 

“Wake up,” Hongjoong croaks out, shaking Yunho. “Wake- wake up.” He coughs and sputters a bit as he tries to stir the other.

 

“Mn…” “What happened?” The others groan, sluggishly coming to life.

 

“Where… Are we?” Jongho asks when he rises into sitting. His mouth drops open as he observes their surroundings. “What the-?”

 

They’re surrounded by walls of rock and water. Craggy stalagmite frames the water much in the manner a door would be framed, and a floor of dry earth sits beneath them.

 

“It’s like some subaquatic air chamber,” Hongjoong replies. “At least, that’s my guess.” He looks out through the ceiling again.

 

“How far down do you think we are?”

 

“I have no idea,” Hongjoong frowns. He turns to poke Yunho (who’s still laying on the ground), “Hey- Yunho. Do you smell anything? Hear anything?”

 

The canis rolls onto his side to face Hongjoong and frowns, “I smell salt water. I taste salt water. Do you know what I  _ hear _ ?”

 

Joong’s shoulders sag, “Salt water?”

 

“Salt water,” Yunho says dejectedly. He stays prone on the ground.

 

Suddenly, something shifts in Hongjoong’s peripheral vision. His eyes dart to one of the water walls, but he doesn’t quite catch it. The same thing happens again, the catching of a slight silhouette at the edge of his vision. Unfortunately, he misses it again.

 

Worry stabs him in the chest when he realizes: they’re not alone.

 

“Guys, do you see that?” Hongjoong asks.

 

“See what?” “I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.”

 

A flash of color darts across a water wall yet again, and this time Hongjoong sees it. It’s slender and blurry, but it’s there. It’s there, and it’s coming to get them. 

 

Another sliver of a silhouette joins the first one. Then a third and a fourth. They circle around malignantly, as if they know they’re causing distress. Hongjoong tries to follow them, but they start swimming swiftly. The already obscure shapes become almost indiscernible in the murky depths, and the seeds of worry inside of the captain begin blossoming into full blown panic.

 

“There’s definitely something there,” Jongho says.

 

Yunho sits up, trying to follow the things, “Is it gonna eat us?”

 

“I dunno,” Hongjoong says. The three shrink back toward one another, cowering as far away from the water walls as possible. More and more colors swirl around them, like a predatory whirlpool, until finally, one of the water walls erupts with sound.

 

_ “Splaash!!” _

 

The trio all wince, holding onto one another for dear life as the walls explode with noise. Hongjoong squeezes his eyes shut out of reflex, dreading what fate is to become of him.

 

_ “Splish!” “Splaash- splaaash!!” “Splash!” _

 

One after the other, those things, whatever they may be, burst into the air chamber. It feels like eons until finally, the echoes stop bouncing around the tiny space. 

 

Hongjoong opens his eyes hesitantly, shocked when he’s faced with not some hideous sea creature, but a man. A tall, statuesque, fair-skinned man with wet, slick hair and stern eyes. Joong glances around and he realizes they’re surrounded by people who look similar. Tall. Pale. Angry and wet. They all wear similar outfits - snug fitting clothing in dull colors. Some don belts with sheathed blades, others hold tall tridents upright. At first, Hongjoong thinks it’s strange. Then he makes the connection - these people are matching because they are in uniform. They’re armed officers of some sort. 

 

He notices one other thing they all have in common: little fleshy slits on their necks. Hongjoong thinks, they sort of look like…

 

Gills.

 

They’re  _ gills _ .

 

These are aquatic people.

 

The light turns on in Hongjoong’s brain, and things start making more and more sense. However, his contemplation is cut short when the most senior looking of the bunch steps forward and speaks.

 

“Good. You’re up,” The man says coolly. He’s got long hair, half-tied in a topknot of sorts. The golden trident in his hand is almost as tall as he is, and it’s encrusted with twinkling jewels and glass.

 

Joong isn’t sure if the look of displeasure on his face is a conscious one, or if the guy just looks angry naturally. He decides that it’s hardly a detail worth reflecting on - given that he fears for their lives and everything.

 

Hongjoong braves replying, “What- what’s going on?”

 

“We’ll be asking the questions here,” The leader replies. He spins the massive trident in a skillful flourish before pointing it threateningly at Hongjoong. “Speak out of turn again, and you die, human.” 

 

The captain opens his mouth, ready to spout out his instinctual response, “I’m sorry”. However, he prudently shuts it before accidentally uttering a sound and getting himself skewered. Instead, he nods in understanding (as do the others).

 

“Very good,” The leader nods. He wrinkles his nose, remarking, “What in poseidon’s name is that stench?”

 

“I think it’s wet dog, sir,” Another one of the aquatic guards comments, pointing at Yunho with their sword.

 

“Ugh- never mind that,” The leader scoffs, “You, human. Tell me what it is the Coalition is planning!” He shouts demandingly.

 

Hongjoong’s face scrunches with bafflement,“I’m sorry, what-?”

 

“Don’t play dumb! You think just because we’re aquatic we didn’t notice your ship entering our atmosphere? What are you planning?”

 

“Me? I’m not planning anything! It’s the truth. I- We're not with the Coalition I promise you that. We stole that ship- it’s not even ours.”

 

“How dare you insult our intelligence with such falsifications. If you insist on spinning lies, then I shall have to persuade you to speak truth,” The man snaps, and one of the guards rushes to Yunho’s side. They grab the canis and drag him toward one of the water walls. One of the guards roughly ties a cloth around his face, not only blinding him, but blocking his nose, mouth… Everything.

 

“Wh- What are you doing?” Hongjoong asks, eyes wide. 

 

“Let me ask you one more time,” The leader says, ruthlessness boiling beneath his dark eyes. “What are you doing on my planet?” 

 

Using the inquiry as a cue, the guard holding Yunho grabs a fist full of the humecanis’s hair and shoves his face into the water wall. Yunho lets out a yelp, and he flails. Water splashes everywhere. His hands shoot up to the guard’s grip, but he can’t peel their hands off.

 

“Wh- No! What’re you doing?!” Hongjoong jumps up toward Yunho and reaches out. The needle sharp point of a trident grazes him, stopping him in his tracks.

 

“He can come up when you answer the question,” The leader tells him.

 

“Wh- B- N-no, please-“ Terror closes around Hongjoong like an iron maiden, needles of dread slowly sinking into his body. “Please I- I promise we didn’t mean anything. We crashed here! We were- were running away…” He trails off as he watches Yunho’s struggling limbs go slack. Bubbles float up from his head. “Y-Yunho?”

 

Without warning, the guard holding the canis pulls him out. It’s a mere instant. Yunho hacks and coughs, gasping desperately for air. 

 

“Yunho-!”

 

Before Hongjoong can get out another word, his friend’s face is plunged back into the water.

 

“No- No wait, please! Take me instead!” Hongjoong says insistently, meeting the furious eyes of the leader with an intense gaze his own.

 

“You are not the one making demands, now tell me why are you on this planet?” The leader snarls.

 

“We stole a Coalition ship,” Joong tries to keep his voice steady, calm. “We ran, but they caught up with us. This was the only place to get them off their tail. It’s the only place they wouldn’t follow us.”

 

Yunho’s let out again. His loud splashes and pained gasps echo across the chamber. 

 

“Please sto-“ “Splish!” He’s plunged right back in, as is the dagger of worry piercing Hongjoong’s heart.

 

“I am being completely, one hundred percent honest,” Hongjoong insists, tears welling up in his eyes.

 

The leader looks at Joong contemptuously and snaps again. This time, a guard grabs Jongho. They drag the youngest over to another water wall and posture to do the same thing. The kid resists a bit, but a sword pressed to his back quickly quells his rebellion. 

 

“No! No- what are you doing?!” Honjoong cries. He wonders why the hell people of authority never believe him. Does he look like a liar? Is it his tone? “Take me- for fuck’s sake take  _ me _ !”

 

“Well, if you insist,” The aquatic man shrugs nonchalantly and snaps. A third guard balls his fist up in Honjoong’s long hair and guides him roughly to the wall in front of them. Someone swaddles his face in a ratty cloth that smells like must and seawater.

 

“You can let them go now,” Joong says, teeth gritted as pain stings the back of his head.

 

“I never agreed to that,” The leader replies frigidly.

 

“Wh-“  _ “Splaash!” _

 

Hongjoong doesn’t get the privilege to respond before being shoved into the water. Following the splash ensues the strange, wet quiet of flowing liquid around him. The cold, salty water stings his eyes, and he squeezes them shut. It’s a strange, disorienting sensation, to have one’s head under water while the body is completely dry. His arms flail around, grazing water and rock in hopes of finding something to brace himself on. The hands holding him in place are steady and strong. No matter how hard he tries, he’s powerless to pry off their grip.

 

He’s held under for one second, then two. Three, four… Ten, twelve… Fifty and a minute. That’s when he starts feeling lightheaded and agony knocks on his chest. He feels sick and weak, like he’s going to pass out any second. Water enters the wrong pipe, and he gags.

 

That’s when he’s tugged back.

 

Cacophanous splashing combined with barked inquiries and pained coughing fills the chamber. Everything echoes so loudly, it’s hard to distinguish anything. Joong swears he can hear yelled curses and Yunho whimpering, but those dull in comparison to the question spoken into his ear.

 

“Now, tell me. What is the Coalition planning?” The leader asks.

 

“I- Iunno,” Joong slurs.

 

“Hm. I see it’ll take more to break you. Again!”

 

“Wh-“  _ “Splassh!” _

 

The entire process repeats once again. Hongjoong manages to close his eyes on time, but it’s a miniscule consolation. Though he tries to hold his breath, what little he has ejects itself soon after he’s submerged. His own reflex to inhale betrays him, making the wet cloth cling to his nose, suffocating him. All too soon that sickening blackness beckons him under. 

 

Then he’s pulled out again.

 

“What are the coalition’s plans?” 

 

“I’m- Don’t know. I don’t-“

 

_ “Splaash!” _

 

More than anything - the pain, the borderline consciousness - it’s the uncertainty that causes Hongjoong to panic. His chest heaves, desperate to take breaths, and his limbs flail once again in a hopeless attempt to wrest himself free. How long will he have to endure this? What about the others? He needs to know that the others are okay. And what happened to Wooyoung? Is he already dead?

 

How long has it been?

 

Why does it feel so, so long?

 

He’s yanked out yet again.

 

“Good on you for being conscious,” The leader comments facetiously. “Now: what are the coalition’s plans?”

 

“Wha… Woooyoun...g- he-?”

 

_ “Splaash!” _

 

Dread compounds, and Hongjoong feels his body shaking violently. His throat burns upon the accidental inhalation of water. The world around Hongjoong dulls, and he’s certain he’s seconds away from passing out. 

 

Then he gets pulled out again.

 

This time, however, is different. 

 

Hongjoong wishes he could understand what’s going on. All he knows is that, somehow, he’d gotten thrown onto the ground. He limply paws at the sopping cloth covering his face until it manages to slide down. The world spins, and sickening nausea paralyzes the confused captain. 

 

He hears yelling and makes out the blurry forms of a few guards. At the corner of his vision, he makes out the stocky shape of Choi Jongho. Jongho fights off three guards, kicking and punching wildly. Their slender bodies go flying, some even getting sent back out into the water. Orders are bellowed and guards run around frantically, trying to subdue the berserk human. All the while, Hongjoong rolls onto his side. Salt water sears his throat as it rises with the bile he coughs up.

 

“Enough!” The leader shouts, brandishing his trident. Strangely enough, the guards stop. Jongho, however doesn’t. He grabs the nearest one, winding his arm back to toss them into the water.

 

Suddenly, a strange noise drones through the chamber. It’s a sweet sounding high sound, like an instrument. No, Hongjoong realizes, glancing up at the leader. It’s a voice.

 

_“Du-du-du… Du-du-du… Du-du-du...”_

 

The man’s voice is shockingly airy. It traces the high notes delicately, just barely grazing the ear. Hongjoong half wonders if he’d lost his mind. Of all things for this guy to do, he’s singing? It’s almost humorous to the captain until he hears the soft thump of someone hitting the ground behind him. Eyes darting to where Jongho had once stood, he sees the other knocked out cold.

 

Did he really just lull Jongho to sleep?

 

“Wh- What happened?” Hongjoong utters. “What’d you do to him?” His voice is raspy from being so scratched up. Another wave of dizziness washes over him, but he clenches his fists and holds on.

 

“You know damn well the power we hold.”

  
“The… Wha-?”

 

The leader is apparently displeased with Hongjoong’s ignorance, and he positions the tongs of the trident right at the captain’s throat. Honjoong tries to scramble back, but he bumps into Yunho’s unconscious body. 

 

“You came here for us, didn’t you? Playing stupid won’t fool us.”

 

“Stu- wha-? I,” Piecing words together is hard. “I…” Hongjoong takes a deep breath, bracing himself as another wave of nausea crashes over him. “Iunno what you are talking about. I jus’ crash landed on this planet.”

 

“Humans spent centuries attacking the siren people. How many times must we show our power for you to understand you cannot win?”

 

“I…” Hongjoong blinks until his vision stops making everything look double. “Hol’ up,” He raises a hand. “What’re you talking about? I didn’t hear any… Any siren.”

 

For just an instant, the leader’s resolute expression falters, and he lowers the trident just a smidgeon, “Wh… Are you serious?”

 

“I… Yes. Very serious. I am very serious,” Hongjoong replies. Clarity gradually makes its return to his body as the haziness dissolves. “I didn’t hear any sirens going off.”

 

“By poseidon,” The man gasps. “They’ve sent complete buffoons.”

 

Hongjoong doesn’t have the time to take offense to that, because seconds later more loud splashing rings out in the chamber. A slender figure emerges through the liquid barrier, his pretty face painted with worry. Behind him, an infinitely less graceful figure fumbles through the barrier. The poor sucker practically trip over their own feet due to the gentle push of the threshold. 

 

It takes a shamefully long amount of seconds for Hongjoong to realize he  _ knows _ that sucker.

 

“Wooyoung?” The captain gapes.

 

“Chief Kawa!” The stranger says to the leader - chief, apparently. 

 

“San! What is the meaning of this?! Can’t you see we were in the middle of something?!”

 

“Chief, you need to stop. There’s a misunderstandi-“

 

“うるさい-!” Chief Kawa yells in a strange language. 

 

The other one pleads (or at least, it  _ sounds _ pleading),“お願いします-“

 

The two start going back and forth in the completely unheard of language. Their expressions and tone communicates the tensity, an exchange of rage and desperation. Hongjoong quickly gives up his attempt to follow it, more curious as to what the hell Wooyoung is doing there of all places.

 

“Shit- are you okay?” Wooyoung rushes over to the half-dead trio. Yunho’s eyes flit open, but one can barely call his state consciousness. Jongho winces as he comes to from all the noise.

 

“Uh, are you okay?” Hongjoong returns the question. Wooyoung actually looks… Fine. Wet, but fine. Still, seeing that he’d come here with an aquatic person makes him suspicious.

 

“Huh? No I’m- I’m fine,” Wooyoung answers. In the background, the two yelling aquatic humanoids continue their back and forth. Neither seems to be backing down.

 

“Wh- You’re fine? How are you fine?! Look around us-“ A gravelly cough scraps out of Hongjoong’s throat for a second, “-I- we’re I don’t even know where we are. We’re, like, under water and- and you- you disappeared.” If their lives weren’t in imminent danger, Joong would consider killing Wooyoung himself for just wandering off. “Where the hell were you?”

 

“I, um, I may have wandered,” Wooyoung replies sheepishly. “But I did meet an inhabitant of this blue planet.” He gestures toward the young humanoid who’d entered with him. Hongjoong watches him argue with the chief. There’s a passion in his tone and a resilient determination in his posture.

 

“And who, exactly, is your new friend?” Jongho asks, perching himself up on his elbows.

 

“Um, his name is San, and he’s a siren - that’s what they’re all called. Sirens.”

 

“Wait- what?” The light flickers on in Hongjoong’s mind. Sirens. That’s what the angry chief meant when he was talking about sirens - not emergency alerts and loud noises. His memory works at a snail’s pace piecing together what the angry man had said to him. “Humans spent centuries attacking the siren people” - their people. “A siren?”

 

“They’re an aquatic humanoid race- which you probably figured out,” Wooyoung informs them. “They’re amphibious, but they feel safer under the sea after years of invasions and attacks. They also kind of hate humans and think we’re GC.”

 

“Yeah. We got that,” Jongho says flatly.

 

“Yeah, um, sorry about that. You guys look rough,” Wooyoung frowns. “What happen-“

 

“ _ Don’t _ wanna talk about it,” The youngest crosses his arms and pouts. He turns his head away definitely as if to say “I’m done with this conversation”. It’d be cute to the captain if there wasn’t about twenty other things on his brain.

 

Hongjoong picks up where the other left off, asking,“So, wait, how did you meet this guy- San, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Wooyoung replies. “I just followed his voice. It was almost like a- okay, this is gonna sound really strange, but-“

 

“Like a trance?” Jongho finishes the other’s thought (apparently forgetting that he’s too mad to talk to Wooyoung).

 

“Exactly. I mean, his voice is beautiful, but these people-” The rogue human’s eyes stray to the two still arguing fiercely. “-it’s different than that. It’s a part of who they are, somehow. They have this power to draw people in. Maybe it’s the frequency their voices sing in or something, I dunno.”

 

“So you found him… Where? In the woods? We didn’t see signs of anyone,” Hongjoong says.

 

Wooyoung shrugs, “His voice guided me to some clearing with a freshwater pond. He damn near killed me, too, but we, um, we got over that. They’re pretty sheltered here, taught to kill humans on sight. But, he’s different. He’s kind and I think he wants to understand humankind. So, he’s trying to convince them to let us go.”

 

“いやらしい-!” The chief’s voice bellow.

 

Shouts ricochet so violently in the small chamber, it’s nearly deafening. All eyes in the room shoot to the arguing pair. Hongjoong looks just in time to see the chief step forward and lift his hand.

 

_ “Smaack!!” _

 

The sound is so sharp it makes even Hongjoong hiss in pain. San reels back and stumbles onto his feet. His face darkens into an expression of bitter resentment, but though his eyes look wet he keeps the tears at bay. His fingers graze the red, angry mark left on his well chiseled cheek.

 

Wooyoung lunges to the other’s side, “Are you okay?” His attention turns to the chief, and he scowls, “What the fuck is your problem?!”

 

“What is my problem?” Indignation seeps from the chief’s tone. “My  _ problem _ is that you have tainted one of the tribe’s most bright, formidable warriors- someone I liken to a younger brother.”

 

“I what?!”

 

“You’ve ruined him.”

 

Hongjoong glances at the chief, then at San, then at Wooyoung. His pupils do that same dance a few times before settling on Wooyoung skeptically.

 

“Wooyoung,” He asks in a low voice, “What did you do?”

 

The other human gasps with contempt,“Wh- Are you  _ serious _ ? I didn’t do anything except  _ talk to him _ \- oh, and almost get drowned.”

 

“Tainted, Wooyoung. He said tainted.”

 

“Why does it matter what I did, anyways?”

 

“So you did  _ something _ ,” Hongjoong insists.

 

“Stop,” San cuts the two off before Hongjoong’s imagination gets too elaborate. He turns to the chief again, “You’ve heard my piece.”

 

Chief Kawa has none of it,“What I have heard is that this human has seduced you with his disgusting lies. You’ve always been a delinquent, but this, San? Having relations with a- a  _ human _ ?”

 

“Whoa- whoa-!” Wooyoung’s hands raise defensively, “I- That’s-“ He talks to Hongjoong over his shoulder, “-that’s an exaggeration. It sounds bad-”

 

“And what if I did?” San spits back, standing upright again.

 

The expression on Hongjoong’s face is a cross between complete disappointment and the urge to kill Wooyoung. He doesn’t know what siren society rules are, but he’s fairly certain it’s frowned upon to fuck them on sight. At least, that’s what he’s managed to figure out using context clues and, of course, the murderous intention of their captors.

 

Wooyoung burns up, flushing with guilt and probably humiliation. The captain thinks he deserves it, but that’s a lecture for later. When they’re not being held at tridentpoint.

 

“So now you won’t even speak in our mother tongue? You-“ The chief turns his trident onto Wooyoung, “What filth have you spewed into this boy?”

 

“Yes, Wooyoung,” Jongho asks vexedly. Apparently he’s part of the interrogation squad now. “Why don’t you tell us what you ‘spewed into’ him?” He glowers.

 

“I feel like I’m being shamed here!” Wooyoung says. It’s definitely nowhere near what the chief wants to hear, and he thrusts his trident menacingly. It catches the fabric of the human’s shirt, but luckily it’s just a warning. For now. “Shamed for something I- I didn’t do!” 

 

The hume turns his attention to the chief again, “Look, I get it. You guys don’t like humans. We’ve done some pretty shitty stuff, but  _ we _ are not here to take your shit, okay? And- and San is his own person. He can think for himself! If he thinks humans are all awful, that’s fine, but let him reach that conclusion on his own instead of threatening him.”

 

“How  _ dare _ you try to tell me how to raise up my brethren,” Kawa hisses.

 

“Y’know, you’re no better than the Coalition,” Wooyoung says defiantly.

 

“ _ Excuse me? _ ” The statement offends the chief so greatly, he lifts his overhead as if in preparation for another thrust - a fatal one.

 

Joong is a mere observer. He doesn’t know if Wooyoung is really stupid, if he’s got a plan, or if he’s just faking it. Whatever it is, it gives the man the confidence to look that chief straight in the eye.

 

Unwaveringly, he speaks again, “It’s true. Kill first, ask questions later - or never. You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourselves, and you just assume your way is the superior way. You’re no better than the scum you so desperately want to disassociate yourself from. Actually- you’re worse. You’re nothing more than a bunch of savages.”

 

For a second - just one tiny, quick second - the chief looks affected. His visage of anger wavers, and regret swims behind his eyes. However, stubbornness wins over. Fury once again clouds the chief’s eyes and he grips his trident tightly.

 

“If it is savagery you insist upon, then it is savagery you shall receive!” He shouts, lunging toward Wooyoung.

 

The glint of light against the trident’s tongs blurs in Hongjoong’s vision. He wants to stop it, but his body is still wrecked from deprivation. Powerless dread fills him to the brim as he does the only thing he can: watch.

 

“No-!” San yells all of a sudden. The siren throws himself in front of Wooyoung quickly and throws his harms out. The chief immediately freezes, eyes wide with pique and bafflement.

 

“Get out of the way,” Kawa roughly commands.

 

“No,” San protests.

 

“Get out of the way,” The chief demands again.

 

“No.”

 

“Why are you being so stubborn for the sake of some humans? You have known them for mere hours.”

 

“It’s not about that. They’re- they’re right. We can’t just go around killing everyone on sight. How does that make us better than them? And- and maybe I- I want to know them better,” San bites his lip nervously. 

 

Kawa shifts to get another angle on the trident, but San mirrors him. The chief shuffles over only to have his movement matched again.

 

“You’re really not going to move?”

 

San just shakes his head. 

 

“San, I don’t want to do this.”

 

“Then don’t,” San replies insistently - begging. “Just let them go.”

 

“And what about you? A traitor who gave away the siren’s most precious gift to a human?”

 

(Joong and Jongho stare daggers at Wooyoung’s back.)

 

“I had to.”

 

(Joong and Jongho stare even more daggers at Wooyoung’s back.)

 

“And I shall have to kill you, whether or not I let them go. It is my duty to protect this planet, and I cannot allow you to poison any of your peers with your- your soft heartedness.”

 

“Why? Why?”

 

“Because that’s how we’ve protected our planet and our people for all these years. I advise you again:  _ stand down _ ,” The chief’s expression softens slightly. It occurs to Hongjoong that he genuinely doesn’t want to kill the other siren. He wants San to step back, to let things be as they normally are. In his own way, the judgmental bastard is begging, too.

 

“No,” San resists. “These people are innocent. Why can’t we let them leave? We are not the only ones victimized by the Coalition.”

 

“And let them tell all their little human friends that the sirens have gone soft? That we’ll let them come and go as they please?” 

 

“They won’t tell anyone-“

 

“We won’t.” “Not a soul.” “I promise!” “Nobody will even believe us, really.” The humans chime in. 

 

Kawa scoffs,“And you trust them?”

 

“Can’t we just give them a chance?”

 

“Chances do not assure the security of a people, San.”

 

“And cold blooded murder does?”

 

“We appear to be at an impasse,” The chief says coldly. “You leave me no choice.” He pulls his trident back. All San does is brace himself, and the humans in the chamber all wince as they see the trident thrust forward, straight for San’s chest.

 

“Wait!” Wooyoung yells this time.

 

Chief Kawa stops again - it’s almost as if he wants to be stopped. In spite of everything, he’s looking for an out, for some way to twist the situation without compromising his society’s doctrines.

 

“You said he’s like your brother,” Now it’s Wooyoung’s turn to step between the trident and the person in front of it. “Do you really want to kill him?”

 

“Wooyoung, don’t worry about it,” San murmurs to the human.

 

“No- No I will worry about it because unlike these crazies, he actually listened to what I had to say. Admittedly, not before 

Trying to kill me.”

 

San adds, “And- and he actually listened, too. He- he even apologized. He admitted that humanity has… Done terrible wrongdoings. But that was years ago.”

 

Chief Kawa looks at the two, absolutely livid. Shockingly, he finally draws back the trident, standing it upright next to himself. Jaw locked with an expression of disgust, he doles out his sentence:

 

“Very well then,” The chief says clippedly.

 

“Wait, what?” “R-Really?” Everyone exchanges looks of surprise.

 

Kawa continues, “You-“ He jabs a finger at Hongjoong and the crew, “-get the hell off of my planet. And you,” His tone drops when his gaze meets San’s. It’s steeped in defeat, “Since you seem so enamored with man, you can enjoy living like one.”

 

“What?” San asks confusedly.

 

“I can’t allow someone impure to swim amongst our kind- someone who’s had relations with a human and allowed them to live. However… The man is right. I do not wish to kill you. That’s far too light a sentence for how greatly you’ve compromised us. You’re banished to the island.”

 

“Wait- you’re exiling me?”

 

“When you leave this air cavern, you will leave this sea and never return. Of course, to my knowledge you’re rather fond of that little rock. Alone.”

 

San opens his mouth to protest, but he snaps it shut. Once again tears well up in his eyes. He doesn’t let them fall, though. He doesn’t show weakness. On the contrary, he stands up even straighter than before. He even puffs his chest up.

 

“Okay,” Is all San says in response.

 

“Okay?” The young siren’s calmness only further spurs the chief’s pique. “ _ Okay? _ ” He grips his massive trident with white knuckles. “You’ve committed a serious of heinous, treacherous atrocities, utterly shamed yourself and been banished from all you knew, and- and all you have to say for yourself is  _ okay _ ?” He lets out an angry puff of air and spits bitterly, “Have fun living the rest of your days out alone on that muggy rock.”

 

“He won’t be alone,” Hongjoong pipes up. Shakily, he gets onto his feet and walks over to the other two. “He’ll be coming with us- I mean, if he wants to.” He gives San an inquisitive look.

 

In the small time he’s known the siren, San has literally put his life on the line. He stood up for his beliefs and for complete strangers. Sure, blindly trusting someone can be stupidity, but it’s also indicative of optimism, hope, and most of all: a kind, pure heart. In Hongjoong’s book, that’s a winning combination.

 

The chief fumes in silence for a few moments, harsh disapproval written all over his face.

 

“So be it,” He grunts, “The only life sentence I can think of that would be worse than exile would be a life among man.” He wrinkles his nose, as if he’d smelled something rotten. He turns to the water wall behind him, “Now get out of my sight and off of my planet! If you ever venture near the sea again, you will be killed immediately!” 

 

With that remark, he parts from those in the chamber, calmly walking through the threshold of gas to liquid. His form blurs and smears with the shifting waters, and soon it disappears into the murky depths. The guards disperse with their leader, leaving San and the four humans alone in the strange place.

 

San turns to Hongjoong, and asks with a small, meek voice, “Did you really mean what you said?”

 

Hongjoong nods, “I did. Oh- I haven’t even told you my name. I’m Hongjoong, and you’re more than welcome to join us. I- Please, do. You don’t deserve to be alone on a tiny island for…” He looks pointedly at Wooyoung for an instant, “What you did. But, um, we can talk more about that later. Right now I’m more concerned about something else.” He cranes his neck, inspecting the ceiling of water above. 

 

“How do we get out of here?”

 

* * *

“Land! Precious land!” Yunho crumbles onto the dry sand on the beach the second he can. His tail wags furiously, splashing water everywhere. “Oh god, I never thought I’d see you again. I love you.” Jongho’s in a similar state of ecstasy, doing sand angels next to him while cackling like a drunk.

 

San and Wooyoung walk side by side toward the treeline, laughing at the other two. Hongjoong opts to lag a bit behind. He lets the two crazies roll around in jubilation, his mind roaming idly. Clear thought hasn’t quite returned to his oxygen deprived head, and he can’t focus on anything for more than a few seconds. Once again, another day passes by where he heads to bed in such a drastically different place than he’d woken up in. In the span of hours, they had (once again) evaded capture, avoided fatally crashing, discovered a (technically) uncharted planet, almost died, and made a new merman friend. It’s enough to boggle the lucid mind, let alone Hongjoong’s drowsy one.

 

In the time they’d been underwater, the sun had sunk from its peak in the sky. Now, it languidly dips beneath the horizon, scarlet and orange rays stretching across the surface of the deep azure ocean. The sight is breathtaking, not unlike a dream Hongjoong vaguely recalls. However, gazing upon the ocean feels different. Or, at least, gazing upon that ocean does. Above the gentle waves, it looks so serene. Who would ever guess beneath the expanse of glassy peaks and valleys lives an entire civilization? (A rather inhospitable one at that!)

 

A salty breeze rolls gently across the beach, and Hongjoong keens at the sensation.  _ Air _ . Fresh, blowing air. He didn’t know he’d miss it so much. Even the processed air of the starship sounds romantic to him. He can’t wait to get the scent of salt out of his nose.

 

“Alright, guys. That’s enough,” Hongjoong says when he finally reaches the two rolling around in the sand. He lightly kicks Yunho in the side, urging the two up with a few more jabs. The group - now five! - set off into the forest toward their ship. Yunho chatters on about how he doesn’t think he’ll be able to smell anything for days, and San talks about how one doesn’t really “smell” underwater in the same manner.

 

Hongjoong smirks, managing to catch Wooyoung slightly behind the others. He sneaks up on the other, grabbing him by the back of the neck.

 

“So…” Joong says quietly, so only Wooyoung can hear.

 

“Uh, what’s up? You’re scaring me,” The younger man chuckles sheepishly.

 

“D’you have fun?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Hongjoong nods explicitly toward San (who, thankfully, has his back to them).

 

“Wait-” Wooyoung gasps, “What?”

 

“Did you have fun ‘tainting’ him?” Joong leans in even closer, grip tightening on the dripping collar of Wooyoung’s shirt, “Was it worth almost dying?”

 

“I- I didn’t- Nothing like that happened!”

 

“So the chief was just making it up? And San, too?”

 

“I don’t know what the hell they were talking about. It- They made it sound worse than it was,” Wooyoung replies. Hongjoong can see the flush creep up the other’s neck, and he laughs.

 

“And what exactly was ‘it’?” Hongjoong needles, poking Wooyoung’s side. The other yelps loudly, jerking away. That gets the other’s attention, but it doesn’t spell a stop in their harassment.

 

“What’s Wooyoung yelling about?” Jongho asks.

 

“Hongjoong’s being mean!” Wooyoung whines, moving to cower behind the (freakishly strong) youngest.

 

“Wh- Hey!” Jongho bats him away, “I don’t wanna hear any complaining from you. I’m still mad at you!”

 

“Mad at me? For what?!”

 

“You got laid while we got  _ waterboarded _ .”

 

“I- I did not get laid!” Wooyoung protests.

 

San blinks confusedly, “What is he talking about? Who laid down where?”

 

“Are you  _ serious _ ?” Jongho gapes incredulously.

 

“Um- yes?”

 

Hongjoong chuckles, “It’s a- a human phrase, I guess. Don’t worry about it.”

 

“Wait- Wooyoung got laid?” Yunho chimes in later than anyone else. “What did I miss?”

 

“You were out most of the time- thank god,” Hongjoong responds before turning his attention to San again, “But seriously, if, um, if it’s not too scandalous to say: why did your chief go on about, um- ‘relations’?”

 

San’s shoulders heave with a heavy sigh, and he explains, “Sirens have the ability to, well- okay let me put it simply for humans. There’s something called the Siren’s Kiss. It’s different than an ordinary expression of affection. Through various biological processes, it allows the recipient to breathe underwater temporarily - well, a humanoid recipient, anyways. It’s absolutely forbidden to talk to humans, let alone give them such power. Our aquatic dwellings was one of our few advantages when we were frequent targets for attack. Granting the Siren’s Kiss would compromise us greatly.”

 

A massive, mischievous grin stretches across Hongjoong’s face, ear to ear. He glances at Wooyoung and wiggles his eyebrows until the other breaks the eye contact embarrassedly. Hongjoong gets it, he does. San had shared something out of perceived necessity. That’s not what Hongjoong finds so funny. What really humors him is seeing sly, sharp, confident Wooyoung so damn bashful about it. Really? Over a “kiss”?

 

“So, like, if a siren kissed a human every day- like all the time, would they basically be able to live underwater, too?” Yunho asks. San giggles a bit at the silly question (leave it to Yunho to come up with such a hypothetical).

 

He answers, “Well, technically, yes, but I imagine human bodies aren’t equipped to deal with underwater conditions. One of my tribe’s elders told me that it used to be a common trope in love stories, though.”

 

“ _ Love stories? _ ” Hongjoong smirks, playfully kicking Wooyoung from behind. “You  _ have  _ to tell us more.”

 

San does just that, and the five lapse into a happy medium as they hike back to their ship site. Whether it’s a front or genuine fortitude, Hongjoong admires the siren’s strength. He’d been exiled from his home, forcefully isolated from everything he knew and loved. Yet he still has the strength to smile, laugh, and welcome four total strangers into his heart.

 

He’s strong, Hongjoong decides, and he’s going to be alright.

  
  


* * *

San gasps when they approach the crash site. Pale smoke still floats up from their hull, but it’s much less thick and odorous than before. The hull glows with regeneration, already look much better than before. Little holes of metal fill in, the hull slowly creeping into completion. 

 

“I’m gonna check the computer, see how progress is,” Yunho says, striding over to the boarding console. 

 

“First dibs on the shower!” Jongho calls, running in after the canis as the ramp lowers.

 

San’s too busy ogling the combat freighter to acknowledge anything else going on around him. He circles the thing nearly a dozen time, occasionally daring to reach out and touch the hull. Wooyoung follows, probably pointing out all the different specs and features of the starship. San grew up underwater, so he’s probably got a lot to learn.

 

Hongjoong, however, stays back. He strokes his chin and studies the freighter carefully. Something about it bothers him, but he can’t figure out what. It’s in good shape, save for the damage it’d just taken. It fills their needs perfectly. He couldn’t ask for more out of a ship, really. The exterior is plain. It’s fine, but…

 

Then he notices it:

 

“Hey, San!” Hongjoong calls the gawking siren over.

 

“What is it?” San asks, approaching him.

 

“This might seem like a funny question, but… Is there any, like- any plant or something really pigmented we could use to, like, paint a ship.”

 

“To paint metal?” San’s brow furrows in thought. “I can think of one or two plants, but why?”

 

Hongjoong nods to the side of the ship emblazoned with the Galactic Coalition identifier: KQ F3LL4Z.

 

“You guys thought we were with the Coalition,” The captain remarks. “While being with the GC can make for good cover in some places, I imagine it’ll cause us more trouble in the long run. You guys aren’t the only ones in the universe who they’ve pissed off, I’m sure.”

 

“So you wanna paint over it?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“What’re you gonna put?”

 

“I’m… Gonna feel that out,” Joong shrugs. “As long as we don’t scream Coalition Douchebag everywhere we go, I think we’ll be fine.”

 

“Alright, well, follow me. There’s a species of black shrimp that feed off the bottom of a nearby pond that we can go to. Plus we’ve got some terrainial seaweed that crops up, too…”

 

Hongjoong and Wooyoung follow San into the surrounding forest. The last hours of daylight are spent collecting as much kelp and shrimp as they can fit in their pockets. After multiple trips, San says they should have enough to cover GC identifier, and they get to work making dye. The work is arduous and messy, and Hongjoong almost regrets taking on the task so late in the day.

 

A few hours and a ruined government issued bucket later, they have paint. At this point, the only light guiding Hongjoong is the moon and the light filtering out of the cargo bay from the loading ramp. He’d managed to scold Wooyoung into finally taking a shower and resting, but San wasn’t having it. Even though Joong’s eyelids feel like they’re weighed down by lead, he’s determined not to lose their battle of wills.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to paint it?” San asks with a chuckle. He stands aside, watching Hongjoong stain a broom with paint.

 

“I got this,” Hongjoong insists.

 

“Are you sure? I could definitely reach higher-”

 

“I  _ said _ , I got this!” The captain fires back. He’d gotten to know San a little better during their paint expedition, and he can honestly say he’s a fan. The siren has an undeniable, effervescent charm to him. Even though he behaves cutely and banters with the best of them, beneath his soft exterior is a formidable intensity.

 

“If you say so.”

 

“I do!” Hongjoong laughs, laying down the first thick, scraggly line of paint. He’s pretty sure his skin will be stained for a week (not to mention his clothes), but he doesn’t care. Something about painting over the Coalition’s neatly stencilled, official moniker with his own shaky hand is incredibly satisfying. 

 

The captain lapses into quiet concentration for a few minutes. He stands on his tippy toes to start the next letter. That one’s quick, but he knows the next few will be a bit harder. Even without sunlight, the island still feels hot and muggy. Joong swears he feels steam rising from the ground beneath him. Sweat drops down his brow and between his shoulder blades.

 

He heaves a sigh of relief and steps back, satisfied upon completion.

 

“Hey, San,” Hongjoong asks. “Are you sure about this?”

 

“Hm?” The siren wakes up from whatever daze or contemplation he’d fallen into. 

 

Joong glances at the other over his shoulder, “Coming with us. Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured is all. If you want to stay here-”

 

“No,” San says sternly. “I’m not gonna just live my life in one place just because it’s familiar.”

 

Hongjoong frowns, “Do you have a family? Loved ones?”

 

The siren falters a bit, but he eventually nods, “I… I do. But there’s no doubt word has gotten out about my transgressions. Tribal families are communal. Yes, I have birth parents, but we’re all together from a young age, so I imagine everybody is pissed now. Maybe one day I can face them, but for now… I’d bring nothing but shame. Anyways!” He claps in a sudden attempt to lift the mood, “I’ve always wanted to see more of the universe out there. I’ve only read about it. I mean- a siren going on a starship! That’s like something out of that story book. You know the one?”

 

“The one about the Treasure, yeah?” Hongjoong asks, a wide grin blooming on his face. Even sirens had their own version of the story?

 

“Yes! The great adventurer and his crew. Of course he was a privileged recipient of the siren’s kiss, and they went on all kinds of adventures,” San sighs happily. “Man, stories like that are so great. The ones that feel big, like a huge journey. I remember hearing it and thinking that I- that a siren like me could do-”

 

“Could do anything,” Hongjoong unintentionally finishes the sentence.

 

San pauses for a second, but thankfully he’s not offended by the interruption. He smiles and nods in agreement.

 

“Exactly,” He finally looks at the ship after its completion and scans its new name a few times. “A. T. E. E. Z. Uh-teez- ATEEZ? What does that mean?” He asks Hongjoong.

 

“A is the first letter of our alphabet, Z is the last. So it’s like… A to Z- and everything in between.”

 

“Hm. What made you think of that?”

 

“To be honest… I didn’t really think? It just kinda came to me,” Joong shrugs. “It just felt  _ right _ , but it fits, doesn’t it? I mean, we’ve got a humecanis, an ex-GC spec ops trainee, a junker - that’s me, some kid who basically has super strength, and, well, now we’ve got a siren. Not to mention our…” Hongjoong bites his tongue before he casually drops their coalition prisoner. An ill sensation wriggles up his spine just thinking of the guy. He would almost rather endure water torture again than have to deal with PO Prettyboy.

 

“Hey!” Jongho shouts from the loading ramp. He looks clean and cozy in his boxers and undershirt (the closest thing he can manage to pajamas in their circumstances). “You guys coming in or not? Dinner’s ready.”

 

“Yeah!” “We’ll be right in.”

 

* * *

A happy buzz resonates throughout the kitchen as the crew of (newly rebranded) ATEEZ digs in. Jongho made kimchi soup, scrambled “eggs” and rice - with, of course, a side of seaweed salad. 

 

Hongjoong was the last to finish showering. Though the gentle jets of cool, purified water felt mostly nice, he couldn’t help recalling the sensation of being drowned over and over again. He turned off the jets no sooner than he’d rinsed off the last suds of his soap.

 

“Did you pick a room yet?” Hongjoong asks San as he takes a seat at the table.

 

“A- a room?” San blinks at him confusedly. 

 

“Yeah. I mean you’re gonna be here for awhile, and there’s plenty,” The captain elbows Yunho next to him, “Come on, man! You didn’t show him the rooms? You’re a bad host!”

 

“Wh- I’m sorry!” Yunho replies sheepishly.

 

Jongho defends him between bites of steamed egg, “We were sort of busy putting the infirmary back together. If I recall, a certain someone went in there and apparently unleashed a tornado.”

  
“I- I was gonna get to that,” Hongjoong reels back, cheeks flushing embarrassedly. 

 

“I don’t think you guys have even properly introduced yourselves to San,” Wooyoung remarks. He (of course) had taken the seat right next to San. Hongjoong glances at the ex-GC trainee with a lopsided grin. The guy’s awfully attentive to their new friend. He kindly opts to keep his thoughts to himself, though (for now).

 

“Oh!” Yunho starts, “Well, I’m Jeong Yunho! I’m from a crappy Earth colony far away from here,” His tail wags genially, “I grew up with Joong here, and I guess I’m, like our pilot?”

 

“You’re the best at it, yes,” Hongjoong gives Yunho a pat on the shoulder.

 

“I’m Jongho,” The youngest introduces himself. “The  _ normal  _ one.” (San giggles at that.)

 

“Not even close,” Wooyoung laughs.

 

“And I’m Hongjoong. Leader or captain or whatever,” Joong says with a shrug. “If you need anything, ask me, okay?”

 

“Right,” San replies. He turns to Wooyoung with a dimpled grin, “And I know you.”

 

“Yeah you two seem to be  _ very  _ well acquainted,” The captain’s gaze practically bores lasers into Wooyoung.

 

“Well, I did meet him first!” San replies innocently.

 

“Is it normal for sirens to give their ‘kiss’ to people they’ve only just met?” Jongho asks dryly.

 

“I felt it was necessary,” The siren answers with calm grace. Even though he hadn’t even been addressed, Wooyoung’s cheeks and ears burn up.

 

More little “introduction” bits are rattled off as time passes. Jongho mentions that he really likes singing and had exceptional marks in school. San mentions that though sirens historically weaponized song, he likes it recreationally, too. Yunho tells him stories about living on dusty, dry land, and Wooyoung talks about how he’d only heard about sirens in books. It’s funny, Hongjoong thinks, the things people find ridiculous. To many, a humanoid capable of living amphibiously and breathing underwater is ridiculous. To San, the idea that humans would genetically engineer themselves to have tails is borderline batshit.

 

Conversation runs on for awhile, and food gradually disappears until only about one serving of anything is left. 

 

“That reminds me,” Hongjoong says hesitantly, “There is one more person you… Probably should meet? Like- just once, though.” He tells the siren. San tilts his head curiously but follows along without question when Hongjoong puts the last of the food onto a tray.

 

“You sure you wanna go down there again?” Wooyoung asks. “I mean- I could do it. You gave him his breakfast.”

 

Joong shakes his head, “No, I’m the captain. Feels like it should probably be me who introduces the two. You can give him the tour when I’m done.” He posits, throwing the other a bone (read: an excuse to hang out with the siren more). 

 

Hongjoong nods toward the stairs down and leads San to the first level. The siren looks a bit puzzled but doesn’t really say anything. Joong isn’t sure exactly how to prepare San for the prisoner. He has no idea what state Seonghwa is in or how he’ll behave.

 

The captain decides to give it a try, “So, you know how we said this ship was stolen from the GC?”

 

“Uh- Yeah,” San responds.

 

“Well, we may have accidentally brought one with us.”

 

“Brought one- one what?”

 

“A, uh, Coalition officer.”

 

“I’m sorry- a what?”

 

“A Coalition officer,” Joong says again. “You know, um. Black coat. Tailored eerily well. Oppressive- rude.”

 

“You, uh- I’m sorry let me get this straight,” San’s brows furrowed in thought, “You stole a ship and… Accidentally brought a Coalition officer on board?”

 

“We didn’t bring him on board. He stowed away.”

 

“He snuck on.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How did he sneak on?”

 

“Listen- I know, it sounds ridiculous, but I promise you it was insane when we were leaving that jail-”

 

“Did you say jail?”

 

“Don’t- don’t mind that, um, the point is it was crazy and chaotic and- and he’s sneaky.”

 

“Okay, well, that’s fair. Coalition officers are thoroughly trained to my knowledge. They probably didn’t let this thing go without a fight.”

 

“They did not,” Hongjoong nods affirmitively. “Of course, being that he’s with the GC and all, this guy- our, um, our prisoner- he’s not our biggest fan. So, we, um, you know-”

 

San chuckles and holds up a hand, “Don’t worry. I am not passing judgment on you for rightfully imprisoning a Coalition officer. My people just kill them on site- or, well, torture them. Then we kill them.”

 

“Right.”

 

“My point is, I trust you more than I trust anyone wearing one of those uniforms. Maybe it’s naive and unfounded- we haven’t known each other long, but…” San shrugs, “I dunno. I trust you. If you wanted to do something weird, you’d have done it by now. So, if you feel like you have to keep this Coalition guy locked up, I believe it.”

 

“Thank you for understanding,” Hongjoong replies. He feels a weight lifted off his shoulders that he didn’t even know was there. He, unlike the GC, doesn’t actually enjoy imprisoning people. He would be happy to let Seonghwa go. Ecstatic even. But that would mean endangering his crew, not to mention whatever collateral damage there could be in the fallout. 

 

Suddenly, the captain remembers something, and he lets out a chuckle, “Y’know what’s funny?”

 

“Hm?” San grunts.

 

“He was the one who said we would all die if we came here,” Hongjoong mutters. Though it could look like kindness to an outsider, in reality it was more to save his own skin than anything else - Joong’s pretty sure of that.

 

“Huh, really?” 

 

“Yup. He begged us to turn back. Said we’d all die. I, of course, did not trust him, and… We damn near did, I guess,” He turns to flash a grateful smile at San, “We would’ve if it wasn’t for you.”

 

San shakes his head, “It wasn’t me who saved your asses- not really. It was Wooyoung. He…” The siren looks down pensively, like he can’t really describe what he wants to. “He’s different.”

 

Part of Hongjoong wants nothing more than to pry in that moment, but he’s just met San and isn’t as inclined to tease him. Yet. Plus, unlike Wooyoung who acts all tough but is actually impish, San seems genuine. He’s just been ripped away from everything he knows, and in part he’d done that (at least in part) because of Wooyoung. That  _ means something _ . What - Hongjoong doesn’t know. But it’s something.

 

“So are you,” The captain decides to keep the other human out of it.

 

“Maybe so,” San shrugs. The two reach the bottom of the steps, and Hongjoong gestures to the brig just across the cargo hold. 

 

“Wait,” The siren says all of a sudden.

 

“What is it?” Hongjoong asks.

 

A sly grin blossoms on the siren’s face, “You said he thinks you were all gonna get killed, right?”

 

“Uh, yeah?”

 

“I’ve got an idea,” San’s eyes glint with mischief, and Hongjoong recognizes that, maybe, just maybe, San isn’t as innocent as he seems.

 

* * *

The second the door to the brig slides open, muttered curses sound out from down the line of cells. San fights with his face, willing it into a menacing scowl. His pace slows from a trot into a steady, deliberate march. Slowly, he approaches the cell.

 

Inside it, a fit blond struggles with… Something. He fingers the edges of the doors, murmuring softly to himself. It takes him a few moments to notice the figure looming over him. When he notices the siren’s presence, he freezes. The prisoner’s eyes go wide, and he backs away slowly. That’s how he remains: silent and gaping.

 

San takes it upon himself to speak first, “Hello, intruder.” He tries to look as intimidating as possible, fixing his gaze on the other like a predator does their prey.

 

At first, the prisoner doesn’t say anything. He just cowers silently as if standing really still and being really quiet will make the siren go away.

 

“We’ve already dispensed of your brethren. Unfortunately, they weren’t at all helpful in explaining why the hell the Coalition thought it was a good idea to stop here.”

 

“That’s- that’s not true,” The prisoner mutters. There’s strain in his voice - he’s trying to keep it straight, but it wavers slightly.

 

“You dare question me?!” San bursts forward, gripping the bars and sticking his face between them menacingly. The petty officer shrinks back but, unfortunately, he doesn’t start crying. Not yet, anyways. It’s sort of a goal for San. He’s eager to see just how tough this GC guy is.

 

“This is a grave misunderstanding,” The prisoner replies.

 

“That’s exactly what they said, too,” The siren scoffs. “Our questioning methods with them were far too lenient. I’m certain with you we won’t make the same mistake.”

 

“No, please- You must understand. I- We would never come here, the Coalition.”

 

“No? The Coalition branded ship that I’m standing in says otherwise.”

 

“This ship was stolen by criminals- fugitives. I was taken prisoner. I am not one of them.”

 

“Have you ever drowned, Officer Park?”

 

“I- How did you know my name?”

 

“They say it’s a cold, lonely sensation. One filled with agony and pain- however, the good news is that many say they feel at peace once they give up. There’s a certain zen aspect to giving yourself over to the tides- Of course, you won’t be given the luxury of death’s sweet release.”

 

“I swear to you, we - the Coalition - would never enter this planet’s atmosphere. We know better than that. We respect the independence of-”

 

“ _ Respect _ ?!” San bangs a fist against one of the bars, making a loud metallic clang echo throughout the small jail. “You  _ respect  _ us? The only reason you all stay away is because we’ve killed you countless times. Yet, somehow, it’s never enough!” The siren snarls. Overall it’s a fairly convincing performance, as far as he’s concerned.

 

The platinum blond shrinks back even further into the corner of his cell, “I promise you don’t have to do this. Let me take this ship away, you will never hear from us again.”

 

“You must think I’m an idiot to let you get away.”

 

“I think you- you may have the propensity to be merciful.”

 

“Ah, yes, letting you fly back home unscathed after a successful reconnaissance mission - that’s mercy?”

 

“No, but- but realizing that we can be better than our forefathers - that we don’t have to do what they did -  _ that  _ is mercy.”

 

San pauses for an instant. That was… Actually really good of him to say. He makes a mental note: the pretty blond is good with words. He probably could’ve made it in politics. The siren wonders why he’d opted to be a GC thug of all things. After all, the guy has a nice face and decent people skills. He probably could’ve done lots of things.

 

He internally pushes the thoughts away. Contemplating human nature is great and all, but making a blackcoat cry is  _ way  _ more entertaining. At the end of the day, complexities aside, the guy aligned with the wrong crowd. For that, he at least deserves a little bit of harassment.

 

“My kind of mercy,” San responds, “Is a swift, painful death. But you’re not getting that. Unless… You beg for it.”

 

“What?”

 

“I said: beg for it.”

 

“You want me to beg for my life?”

 

“You’re right, that’s silly,” San laughs. “Beg for your life and apologize.”

 

“A-apologize? For what?”

 

“For the wrongdoings of those before you, and the inevitable wrongdoings of those to come.”

 

“I’m not going to do that.”

 

“Then perish,” San makes a move to open the cell.

 

“Wait- wait- wait!” Seongwha sticks a hand out defensively (like that’ll help him).

 

“Oh?” The siren quirks an eyebrow.

 

“Wait, I’ll-” The blond lets out a puff of air, “I’ll do it.”

 

“You’ll do it?”

 

“I’ll… Apologize.”

 

“You’ll apologize and…” San deliberately makes the other fill in.

 

“And- and-” The officer’s eyes cast to the ground, and his voice gets soft, “Beg.”

 

San claps happily, a grin across his face,”That’s a good human!”

 

“But you promise you’ll let me leave, right? Leave alive and- and in one piece,” He glances at his wrist.

 

“You can take your little tin can and get the hell off of our planet,” San says. He smiles widely, “Now, I can clearly tell intellect isn’t your strong suit. Given that you’ve been locked up here by your own people, I’m inclined to assume you’re the lowest of the low.”

 

Seonghwa scowls at that. San can just see the rude remarks just pushing at his lips, asking to be released. But the guy’s got some good self-restraint. He keeps quiet and lets San continue.

 

“I’ll make this easy for you,” The siren says, “All you have to do is repeat after me. Can you do that?”

 

Seonghwa nods.

 

“I said: can you do that?” San insists.

 

“Yes,” The officer almost growls.

 

“Very good! Now, say, ‘My name is Officer Park Seonghwa’-”

 

“It’s petty officer,” The blond mutters.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I- My rank is- it’s- nevermind.”

 

“That’s what I thought,” San says pointedly. “As I was saying: ‘my name is Officer Park Seongwha’...” He trails off to let the other mimic him.

 

“My name is Officer Park Seonghwa,” The blond grumbles.

 

“And I apologize profusely for the atrocities committed by my Coalition forebrethren...”

 

“And I apologize profusely for the- the atrocities committed by my Coalition fore...brethren…”

 

“I acknowledge that compared to the siren master race I am but an insignificant cuckold...” San’s pretend authoritarian mask almost breaks at that. Luckily, he keeps it together.

 

“I acknowledge that compared to the… Siren master race I am but an insignificant… An insignificant-” Seonghwa’s voice shrinks to an almost indiscernible murmur, “-cuckold.”

 

The siren smirks to himself, “If I am lucky, this gracious, divine creature will spare me my life…”

 

“If I am lucky this gracious, divine creature will spare me my life,” The officer says the words “gracious” and “divine” like they’re disgusting curses.

 

“Now this is the part where you maybe throw in some, like, ‘please don’t kill me’ statements. I’ll let you improvise here.”

 

Seongwha glares at the siren, but those nasty thoughts he’s so clearly thinking don’t get verbalized. Instead, he does as he’s told.

 

“Please don’t kill me,” The officer says flatly.

 

“Wow. That is not convincing. Ought I escort you to the submersion chamber right now-?”

 

“Please, don’t-!” Seonghwa suddenly clamors up to the bars with urgency. San grins with satisfaction and waits for the other to conintue. The blond takes a deep breath before trying a more impassioned request for mercy, “Please, please, please don’t kill me. I- I-” It clearly wounds the guy to beg for his life, which makes the entire affair way more funny. “I beg of you.” Seonghwa finishes with gritted teeth.

 

“I’ll take it,” San says dismissively. “Now - don’t worry, you’re almost free - repeat again: ‘I will never step foot on this planet again’...”

 

  
“I will never step foot on this planet again.”

 

“And I swear to warn my cohorts of the same...”

 

“And I swear to warn my cohorts of the same.”

 

“Because I know better than to spurn the merciful siren, San…”

 

“Because I know better than to spurn the merciful siren, um, San.”

 

“I also confess…”

 

“I- I also confess- how much longer is thi-”

 

“Did I say you could speak out of turn!” San snaps.

 

Seonghwa winces and complies, “I- I also confess.”

 

The siren smirks, “That Captain Kim Hongjoong is superior to me in every way.”

 

“That Captain Kim Hongjoong is superior to m- Captain Kim- Kim Hongjoong is- is…” Seonghwa’s eyes go wide with stupefaction, and he gapes at San.

 

From down the hall, a low voice echoes: “Wait- wait add sexy.”

 

Seonghwa starts sputtering, “Wh- What the hell- what is-”

 

The very captain in question starts striding down the hallway, his voice growing with each step forward, “Or should I say handsome?”

 

San chuckles, “I think ‘in every way’ implies appearance, too.”

 

“Yeah, but I feel like the looks adds, like, an extra layer of humiliation, you know?” The captain grins as he arrives in front of Seonghwa’s cell, dinner tray balanced carefully in his hands. “What do you think?” He asks Seonghwa pointedly, his eyes swimming with amusement.

 

Seonghwa’s wide eyes alternate between San and Hongjoong. Pink tints his ears and cheeks as he visibly searches for something to say.

 

“Aw, look,” Joong snarks as he sets the tray on the door slot. “He’s so happy to see me, he’s speechless.”

 

“You,” Is all Seonghwa manages to get out.

 

“What about… Sexy?” Hongjoong asks San rhetorically. “How’s that sound? Captain Kim Hongjoong is sexy- wait, I don’t want you to say that.”

 

“You- you- you’re alive?” Hwa asks in wonder.

 

San just pouts, “He didn’t cry, though.”

 

“Yeah, I guess expecting him to cry is unrealistic,” Hongjoong replies. “He would need a heart to display that much emotion.”

 

“You- you’re with a siren?” Seonghwa gapes.

 

“Yep!” Hongjoong exclaims. He slings an arm over San’s shoulder, “And he’s our new bestest friend! I say ‘our’ because we all got out alive.”

 

“In one piece!” San adds jubilantly.

 

“No. That- that can’t be- he is a  _ siren _ . You’ve had contact with a siren.”

 

“His powers of observation aren’t very astute,” Joong tells San.

 

“You idiot- he’ll drown you in your sleep!” Seonghwa exclaims.

 

San had taken Petty Officer Park Seonghwa for a typical GC douchebag before. But the blond’s statement rubs him the wrong way, and his loathing deepens ever so slightly. 

 

“What happened to being better than our forefathers?” The siren says, fists clenched at his sides.

 

“That was before I knew the company you decided to keep,” Seonghwa huffs. “I guess you’re just the same savages you were a thousand years ago.”

 

_ “Thudd!!” _

 

San hits a bar again, this time hard enough for the sound to bounce around the entire jail a few times. He feels fury gurgling inside his guts, and he snarls:

 

“You oughta be on your hands and knees kissing  _ his  _ ass-” He nods to Hongjoong, “-because the only reason you’re actually alive is because of him right now.”

 

The captain reaches out to reassure the other,“San-”

 

“Wow,” Seonghwa breathes out bitterly, “Threatening me? Really not helping your case here.”

 

San grips the bars in his hands in a vice like grip, just venting his anger into them for a few seconds. When the peak of the wave passes, he drops his hands and lets out a sigh. Humans are complicated, he thinks. Some are gracious and intriguing. Others vile and bitter. He thought for an instant that maybe, just maybe the GC officer had a little more to him.

 

Guess not.

 

“San,” Hongjoong whispers, “Why don’t you let me wrap up here? Go find Wooyoung and have him give you the tour I mentioned.”

 

The siren stands down.

 

Wooyoung. A tour.

 

Sounds good.

 

San nods in agreement, leaving the brig in a huff. He doesn’t look back to see Hongjoong’s soft, caring expression, and he doesn’t notice the indentations his grip left on the metal of the bars.

 

* * *

Hongjoong shakes his head and scoffs, “Incredible.”

 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “That you’d endanger yourself by cohabiting with a siren? Yes, that is incredible-” He takes a bite of egg, “-incredibly stupid.”

 

“Y’know you really had me going for a second.”

 

“Hm?” The petty officer grunts as he slurps down soup.

 

“That ‘better than our forefathers’ bit- that was good. You even had me convinced for a second,” The captain frowns. “I almost thought you meant it.”

 

“That’s because I did,” Seonghwa says frankly before taking a bite of rice.

 

Hongjoong narrows his eyes at the other skeptically, “Like hell you did. You just called him a fucking savage.”

 

“He just threatened my life.”

 

“Because you provoked him to!”

 

“I did no such thing,” Seonghwa replies calmly - he’s always so calm, it’s infuriating. Hongjoong’s not an angry person either, but he can’t help feeling like an active volcano in the presence of the PO’s arctic aura.

 

“You said he’d drown us in our sleep.”

 

“And who says he won’t? Seriously- you expect me to believe that you just skipped down to the beach, showed them how much  _ moxy  _ you and your little crew have, and came back with a new bestie?” Seonghwa lets out a wry laugh.

 

“You don’t know what happened,” Joong spits back, irked just thinking about his experience.

 

“Exactly right. I don’t know what happened, so I have to rely on my intelligence, education, and basic logic to discern what’s going on. Using the intellectual tools at my disposal, the most likely conclusion I can reach is that sirens loathe humans, and he’s gonna kill you in your sleep.”

 

“You could’ve used a third of the syllables to say exactly what you just said,” The captain grimaces at the other with distaste.

 

“I’m sorry did my big words confuse you?”

 

“Oh my god-  _ please  _ just finish eating so I can go,” Hongjoong huffs.

 

“Nobody’s forcing you to be here.”

 

“We’ve gone over this.”

 

“If I didn’t find the sight of you so viscerally revolting, I would eat slower just to spite you.”

 

“Well I’m  _ so glad _ we both share the same cosmic repulsion to one another. Now  _ eat _ ,” Hongjoong huffs.

 

“You’re just angry because I’m right. You do trust too easil-”

 

“Eat,” Hongjoong cuts the other off indignantly. It’s that second that he swears he’s  _ not  _ getting prisoner food duty ever again. He won’t allow it. 

 

Thankfully, the prisoner seems just about as done as Hongjoong does, and he finishes his meal in fast silence. Maybe if he knew that San had laid his life on the line for them, he’d understand why Hongjoong trusts him. But that’s none of his business. Petty Officer Prettyboy’s opinion has about as much value as a rat’s ass, anyways. 

 

The captain scowls as he watches the other finish his meal. He’s fairly convinced that, in the right light, when he squints his eyes just so, he can make out a pair of devil’s horns under that perfect platinum blond hair.

 

* * *

“And this is the kitchen-slash-living-area,” Wooyoung makes a grand gesture out into the open space. He watches San gasp yet again. The ship is pretty nice in Wooyoung’s opinion, but his reaction pales in comparison to San’s. The siren walks around slowly, eyeing everything in wonder. He reaches out to let his fingers graze every surface - aluminum, steel, synthetic wood, the durable nylon blend of the couch. Everything is fascinating and exciting and new to him.

 

Something about watching that, about seeing the stars twinkle in someone’s eyes over the simplest of things, makes Wooyoung’s heart glow. 

 

“What kind of food do you eat?” San asks, rubbing his hands all over the polywood table like it’s made of shag carpet.

 

“Uh- All kinds of stuff,” Wooyoung answers with a chuckle. “I mean, right now it’s all military flash frozen, pre-planned stuff. They stocked it pretty good. Basic stuff I guess like rice and kimchi and kelp - like what we had. Sometimes eggs or chicken. Seems like the GC liked stocking dry rice. I don’t blame ‘em, it’s easy and cheap. Uh… I mean there’s, like, cereals and, um, vegetables and fruits. What did you eat?”

 

“Take a guess,” San says.

 

“Fish?”

 

“Fish. And seaweed and kelp- we had rice, too! Though I’m fairly certain it’s not like what you call rice. There’s ancient grains and we had some fruits- aquatic of course. Did I mention fish?”

 

“You know what, I don’t think you did,” The two share a few laughs before it dies down.

 

“C’mon,” Wooyoung waves San over. “Let’s get you a bedroom.” The mention of a room prompts San to bounce out of his chair and trot giddily toward his guide.

 

“Is it true what the captain said?” San asks.

 

“Is what true?”

 

“About there being plenty of room for me? Like- like I can get my own room?”

 

“Huh? Of course. Would he lie about that?” Wooyoung leads the other down the hallway.

 

San smiles ear to ear; it’s authentic and adorable, “I just- I’ve never had my own room. I- I can’t imagine. Like a whole room for me to sleep in alone?”

 

“Really? Wh- Yes.” Wooyoung knows it’s common for people to have to share rooms. Where he’d come from, whole families lived in a room. They’d do whatever they had to to survive, it wasn’t that big of a deal. However, hearing that the other lived like that was strangely peculiar to him. Wooyoung just assumed that sirens were somehow… Different. He never thought of how, just figured that they are. Maybe they have more in common with other humanoids than they insist they do.

 

“Whoa, that’s so cool. Everything is communal where I live- lived,” The siren says, deflated ever so slightly.

 

“Well, the shower here still is. I mean- I think the captain’s got his own- lucky bastard. Our setup is fine, though. I… I hope you like it,” Wooyoung says, leading San down the hall where the rooms are.

 

“I like what I see so far,” San says casually.

 

Wooyoung can’t help but take pause. He’s spent his fair share of time behind many bar counters in his post-trainee years. He has been on both the receiving and giving end of flirtation and, to him, that sounds like textbook flirtation. But… Sirens don’t flirt the same way. Right? More importantly: why does that matter right this second?

 

“Good to know,” Wooyoung responds, nonchalant. “So, here’s the hall where most of us stay. The common area sort of is like the middle of the two halfs. Captain’s quarters are on the other side. So here’s Jongho-” Wooyoung points to the closest door, “-and Yunho-” He taps a door one away from the first, “-and this is me.” He taps the door second from the last. 

 

“Is there a difference in any of them?” San asks.

 

“Not the normal ones, no. The captain’s quarters are nice, but obviously taken.”

 

“So, wait- you all just left him alone on the other half of the ship?”

 

Wooyoung lets out a laugh, “Wh- I guess. You make it sound so bad.”

 

“What did he do to deserve being all by his lonesome?”

 

“Stop- we didn’t-”

 

“Is he a loud snorer.”

 

“God, I hope not. Wait- do people even snore under water?”

 

“Trust me, they  _ do _ ,” San snickers. “It sounds more like bubbles though. You know sound does carry more in water.”

 

“Yikes.”

 

“And we’re actually really good at hearing.”

 

“Yikes.”

 

“Eh. We learn to deal with it.”

 

“Well, if you want more quiet, we can check out the rooms on the other side of the hall. They’re literally all the same, anyways,” Wooyoung shrugs.

 

San doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he walks past the human and presses the touchpad to open the door at the end of the hall. It slides open with a soft hiss, and the light automatically illuminates, painting a massive block of light in the hallway. Wooyoung scrambles to the other’s side as he steps in. 

 

The layout is exactly the same as his room (and all the other regular crew quarters). On one side, there’s a built-in bed with wardrobe storage all around and a reading light above. It’s a surprisingly decent size - two people could probably fit in it comfortably. Opposite the bed is a wall with a hanging desk and a bolted down stool. A little HUD projector console sits on the desk - probably intended for little GC worker-bees to use for correspondence or inventory detailing. A window shows the world outside on the wall opposite the door.

 

“Whoa…” The siren gasps as he walks in. The room is by no means impressive - maybe three by three meters. But, to San, it doesn’t matter. The siren excitedly paces straight to the window. “I can see space outta this thing?”

 

“Well, when we’re in space, yeah,” Wooyoung says. “Which should be any minute. I’m pretty sure the captain wanted us off this planet, ASAP. I think that’s where Yunho is. Oh- But, don’t worry, there’s a blind so you can sleep without light coming in.”

 

“I’ll take this one,” San says with finality.

 

“Huh?” 

 

“This room,” The other turns to the human, a little smile on his face. “I’ll take this one.”

 

“Oh- Um, you sure?” Wooyoung asks.

 

“You said they’re all the same, right?”

 

“Well, yeah, but this is the first one you saw. You don’t even wanna see the others?”

 

“Why would it matter?”

 

“I dunno,” Wooyoung shrugs. “The feng shui? The ‘energy’? You’d get more quiet past the kitchen, you know.”

 

“This one’s fine,” San replies, unshaken. “Plus…” He pauses and presses his lips together. For some reason he seems hesitant. “It’s right next to yours.”

 

Wooyoung opens his mouth, but he concludes that he doesn’t know what to say. Is that flirting? No, no, he deduces. He’s the first one who’d met San. He’s the one San knows the best. Of course San will want to be near him. That’s logical. San’s been sentenced to a life in this strange world, he’s entitled to cling to whoever makes him feel comfortable.

 

“Just knock if you need anything,” Wooyoung tells him, trying to ignore the heat prickling his ears. 

 

“I will,” San flashes Wooyoung another dimpled grin. It makes the human glad to see the other taking everything so well, so openly. 

 

He starts to walk out when the intercom clicks to life.

 

“Hello everyone this is your pilot Yunho speaking.” (“We  _ know  _ it’s you!” Jongho’s muffled shout can be heard from down the hall.) “We’re gonna be getting starbourne in a few minutes so I ask that you all remain seated and secure. Due to our, uh, landing gear boo-boo, jumping off might be a little bumpy? Well, anyways, hold on and stuff.”

 

“Click.”

 

San intakes a sharp breath. His grip on the window frame tightens ever so slightly, and he turns to look.

 

“Um, San. Word of advice,” Wooyoung says, “You should probably be sitting down when we leave the atmosphere. Especially with the damage we’ve taken.”

 

“Right,” The siren says curtly. The warmth he’d possessed just seconds earlier vanished, it seems. 

 

Wooyoung wonders what happened. His heart dips thinking about it, and he wonders if the other is starting to have regrets.

 

“San are you okay?” He asks, venturing a step toward the other. “San, if you want to go back-”

 

“No, it’s not that,” San responds clippedly and shakes his head.

 

“You seem a little tense.”

 

“I know! I- I’m sorry I know I just-” The siren glances over his shoulder. He’s chewing on his lower lip anxiously, and his eyes almost have the words “help me” written on them. 

 

“You’ve never been on a starship before,” Wooyoung realizes out loud. Of course he’d be nervous. Who  _ isn’t _ shitting themselves the first time they strap in for interstellar travel? Wooyoung remembers the kids at his school used to tell all kinds of crazy stories about it. Some said that his brain would get scrambled when he left the atmosphere and he’d forget how to talk. Others told stories about how one time some traveler warp jumped, but somehow his skeleton got left behind. Wooyoung has no idea what a siren knows about space travel, but it’s probably not very reassuring.

 

San nods wearily in affirmation. 

 

“Whirr… Whirr…” “Thunk!”

 

The ship reanimates noisily, and (just as Yunho had said) it jostles with the strain on their rough landing gear. San gasps, digging his nails into the alloy of his window frame even more deeply. He looks like a cat who’s puffed their fur up, tense and terrified.

 

“San, c’mere,” Wooyoung says, taking a seat on the bed. He pats the space next to him and waves the other over.

 

The wide-eyed siren looks over his shoulder and complies. He scurries on over to Wooyoung’s side, having no shame in scooting as close as possible. 

 

“Lifting off,” Yunho announces over the intercom. The ship shakes again, and San balls up the sheets below in his fists. With a few more awkward jerks and joggles, the ship is off.

 

“We’re- we’re off the ground?” San asks, craning his neck so he can look out the window. 

 

“Yup,” Wooyoung knows he should be a bit more reassuring, but he can’t help grinning. He’d never been with someone on their first time travelling interstellar, and it’s pretty amusing watching the siren mildly lose his mind. 

 

“I wanna see,” The siren says.

 

“That’s not safe yet, but the view from here isn’t bad.”

 

“Right, right,” San nods.

 

ATEEZ flies higher and higher, and soon even the towering canopy of trees gives way to open sky. San’s chest visibly heaves with nervous breath, and Wooyoung’s afraid the guy will bite a hole through his lip at this rate. Without a word, he wedges one of his hands between one of San’s and the bed. Calmly, the human slips his hand in and laces their fingers together. 

 

At first, the siren doesn’t quite register. He’s wound tighter than a spring, and his eyes stay stubbornly affixed to the window. However, as the ship lifts more and more, he relaxes little by little. His vice like grip on the sheets slackens, and he visibly loosens up.

 

“It’ll get bumpy as we enter the atmosphere,” Wooyoung warns the other in a hushed tone. San nods, still watching the sky go by. The planet’s suns had long since taken their trip to the other side, leaving little for the eye to see in the clear sky. 

 

Just as Wooyoung said, the ship quakes as they pass through the planet’s atmosphere. San squeezes Wooyoung’s hand even harder then. It hurts so much, the human winces, but he bears it. He can tell there’s more than just a few nerves being vented into the force. There’s a lifetime of memories being left behind along with an uncertain future, too. All of it because of a chance he took on some human.

 

Eventually, the ship stabilizes, and the planet’s navy night sky recedes, giving way to the galaxy beyond.

 

Wooyoung gives the other a kind smile, “You can stand up now,” He whispers. It’s not necessary, but it feels right - like he should be quiet. 

 

“I- I can look?” San asks nervously. His breathing has steadied which is good, but he seems tired all of a sudden - like just leaving the atmosphere of his planet had drained whatever energy he’d been holding onto since being exiled. 

 

“Yeah, let’s see,” Wooyoung stands up and guides the other to the window. Space is far from enthralling to him, but for San? It’s his first time. Wooyoung wants him to enjoy it - at least to the best of his abilities, given the circumstances. 

 

San presses his nose to the window, and his mouth falls open, “That’s my planet?” He points to the blue orb known as Obureru.

 

“Mhm.”

 

“And those- those are stars?” He points to the expanse of flickering, glowing specks in the distance.

 

“Yup.”

 

“Whoa.”

 

“Choi San, welcome home,” Wooyoung says. San just continues to gape like a kid at an aquarium - face pressed up on the glass and mouth in a constant “O” shape. 

 

Wooyoung almost laughs -  _ almost _ . He doesn’t want to patronize the other, but the sight’s almost comical. He’s seen so much space, he’s practically sick of it. All stars are to him are burning masses of gas that occasionally explode. They’re markers for navigation, and sometimes people draw shapes between them. 

 

Not to San, though. Wooyoung wonders what they are to him. He probably didn’t see them very well under the ocean. Are they arcane and mystical? Scary? Mysterious? Fun, even?

 

“It looks so small,” San says, eyes still on his planet. “To think that that place was my whole world, and now it’s- it could fit between my fingers-” He punctuates the statement by pinching his fingers in front of the window. “And- and all the stars! Wow…”

 

Wooyoung jokes, “I’m glad space has made a good first impression on you. The star system was clamoring for your approval.”

 

“As they should,” San banters back, a little smirk upturning the edges of his lips. “They’ve pleased me so far. Except for that one-” San points at a star, “-that one’s flickering at me funny. The others are good, though!”

 

Wooyoung chuckles at the jest, but his laughter quiets.

 

His gaze finds San’s, and he asks, earnestly, “And… The humans? Have they made a good impression, too?”

 

“Hmm…” San purses his lips like he’s thinking really hard about it. “I don’t know yet.” His words are inconclusive, but he’s got a smile on his face.

 

“You don’t know?” Wooyoung quirks an eyebrow.

 

“Well, that GC guy was kind of a prick.”

 

“Okay- he’s an outlier and should not be factored into the- the average.”

 

“No?”

 

“No. I’ll allow you to omit him from your report. For the sake of the data, of course.”

 

“Oh, of course,” San chuckles - sweet music entering Wooyoung’s ears. “Well, I suppose removing that one outlier, then I’d say humans are… Pretty good.”

 

“Pretty good?”

 

“Pretty good,” San nods.

 

“Just ‘pretty good’?”

 

“Why? Did my findings disappoint you?”

 

“Maybe a little,” Wooyoung pouts. “Nobody likes being called just ‘pretty good’. Of course- considering the experience you’ve all had with humans before, I guess I can’t ask for much more at this point.”

 

“Well...” San shrugs, “Maybe one day that’ll change.” His gaze almost pierces the human. “Maybe one day I can learn to like humans or… Even love them.”

 

Wooyoung pretends his face - no, whole body - isn’t on fire as he answers, “Maybe. Who knows this could be the start of a- a whole thing.” He gestures vaguely.

 

“A… ‘whole thing’?”

 

“I mean- you know, sirens and humans getting along-” Wooyoung swears he’s good at keeping up appearances.  _ Swears  _ it. He’s great at faking genial conversation and keeping a cool, confident face in front of others. Except, this isn’t fake, is it? He wonders. Maybe that’s why it’s so difficult. Because it isn’t fake. He’s not just trying to be collected or assured to keep appearances. His conversation is authentic.

 

“Right,” The siren smirks.

 

The smile fades, and soon the two lapse into a comfortable silence. They stargaze silently, each no doubt lost in their own reflections. San leans his forehead against the glass, and his eyelids start to fall heavily. 

 

“It’s been a long day,” Wooyoung breaks the spell of quiet. “Why don’t you go to bed?”

 

“Mmkay,” San mutters tiredly. “Um- How do I… The lights and stuff?”

 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get ‘em for you,” Wooyoung says insistently. San nods sluggishly, clearly not caring to protest. He shuffles off to his bed, and Wooyoung can hear the rustling of fabric behind him.

 

The human gets the blinds to slide shut and turns around to hit the lights. His insides practically ignite when he sees the siren stretching languidly in his pajamas. That is to say: stretching languidly with no clothes on at all.

 

“Mn… This is so nice,” San sighs happily. “Dry sheets… Are nice.” He tangles himself in the blankets and shuts his eyes contently. 

 

“Good night, San,” Wooyoung says as coolly as possible. 

 

“G’night, Wooyoung,” The siren slurs sleepily.

 

The human shuts off the lights and quietly exits the room. Thoughts upon thoughts upon thoughts reel through his head when the door slides shut behind him. He can’t quite comprehend what’s going in his brain or the weird, frazzled sensation tossing around in his chest. At the very least, he can understand one thing concretely: Choi San is safe and at least a little bit happy. Knowing that,  _ he  _ can sleep tonight. That’s good enough for now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // [It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia theme plays] The Gang Gets Waterboarded
> 
> // tysm for reading!! i hope my copypasta japanese wasn't too horrific.

**Author's Note:**

> // None of the person(s) or brand(s) in this piece belong to me.


End file.
